A Hard Day's Night
by mari.92.11.3
Summary: After the reunion. How Lucy, Jude, and co. get back on their feet.
1. prologue

Prologue

_After the rooftop_

Max practically shoved his friend down the stairs, but Jude didn't protest. He was going as fast as his legs would carry him—it just so happened that Max was still faster.

"Go, go, go!" in minutes Jude was through the door, where he pushed his way past the police officers gathered at the foot of the building and flew to the building beside them, where she was just coming out, her face flushed from the speed at which she'd run down and the excitement at seeing her lover again.

Lucy ran into him—and nearly knocked him down—but he didn't mind in the least. His arms held her about the waist and pulled her as close to him as he could manage. She was sobbing and laughing at the same time, into his shoulder, before he lifted her chin up and kissed her gently.

She pulled away from him slowly, and murmured, in a barely audible whisper, "I'm sorry, Jude. I'm…"

"I'm sorry too." He interrupted her.

"We were both wrong."

"That's it." He nodded in agreement and grinned, "Now stop your babble and let's go home."

Above, Sadie and her gang had begun to pack up, and the crowd that had gathered below the building began to disperse after realizing the concert was over. And for the first time in months, Jude was content.

* * *

It was a little odd for Jude, seeing the apartment that had changed a good bit of his life. But Sadie's was just as bright, just as obnoxiously colorful, as it had been when he left it.

"Welcome home, Judy," Sadie told him, patting him on the back and heading off into the kitchen.  
"Good to be home." He grinned again. He just couldn't stop, it seemed. "This place 'asn't changed much." Lucy came up beside him, and he automatically reached his arm out to pull her close.

"No," she murmured peacefully, "It's still beautiful, huh?"

"And the view is still amazing!" Max shouted out the window. There was an angry hissing noise from the cat, huddled in the corner, and an old woman on the street yelled up angrily at them, five stories away. Max smiled cockily and went back to his best friend and sister.

"So," he yawned typically and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, "When's dinner?"


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_One year later_

By then they'd fallen into routine. Every day, Lucy woke up to the sound of Jude's breathing beside her. She was always up early, a habit she'd picked up during her school days, when morning was the only time she could be alone before her parents and sisters were up. Because sometimes, even perfect Lucy Carrigan needed a moment to herself.

After she was up and dressed, she'd go into the kitchen, make the regular enormous pot of coffee, and find herself something to eat. Usually, it was an apple, the only food besides cereal that was in regular supply. She never really cared though—she could have put up with anything.

By the time she'd finish eating and drinking her coffee, Prudence would be up, and would groggily wander through the kitchen, grab some coffee, and find her way back to her room. She wasn't seen again until noon, when she was fully awake and going off to work.

An hour after Prudence, Jude woke up, came into the kitchen, and kissed Lucy's cheek.

"Do you ever eat?" he asked her, yawning slightly and opening the refrigerator besides the sink, it was bout the only complex machinery in the room at all.

"Of course I do. I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just like you." She said mildly. They always had this conversation in the morning.

"Whatever suits you." He murmured benignly, getting some milk and then moving on to one of the cupboards for the cereal. "What are you doing today?"

"I have a day off," she told him happily.

"We could stay in," he smiled, "I don't have to be at work 'till later, you know."

"I have tomorrow off too, and the weekend; and then Christmas break. But…"

"But?"

"I… have to see my parents."

"_Parents?_" he asked her incredulously. He'd forgotten the cereal box tipped in his hand, and the bowl was filling up too fast. "Why do you have to see your _parents_?"

"Your cereal, Jude." Her blue eyes met his brown one, and she frowned. "Don't think you're not coming! And Max too!"

"Your parents probably hate the both of us by now." He told her indignantly, finally realizing his bowl was overflowing. He grabbed a handful and put it back in the box, then dumped a bit of milk in and sat down across from her.

She didn't sigh—that's what he loved about Lucy; she didn't just sit there and despair—but she didn't look at him too happily, either. "Yeah… they probably do." She muttered, dropping her apple-core moodily on the table.

He raised his eyebrows in that questioning way he always did when he knew she wasn't making any sense. And she knew he knew she knew she wasn't making any sense. _If _that made any sense.

"So what?" she snapped, exasperated. "They never liked Max too much, and they only met you once. Twice, maybe? You went last Thanksgiving too, didn't you?"

"Yeah…But—"

"But what? They don't know you, so they can't hate you. And you're a good deal more respectable looking than Max, you know."

He grinned, "_Anyone _is more respectable looking than Max, Lu. I can't quite call that a complement."

"Yes, well—"

"Alright." He raised his hands in surrender. The woman was dangerous when she went on a rampage, and he didn't think it was a good thing to argue with her on. Besides, what would one visit to her parents do? "Fine. Fine!" he repeated when she glared at him.

"Ok." She told him dryly, and looked away.

"Ok." He finished his cereal and put the bowl in the sink—it was his turn to wash the dishes tonight, he realized—and walked out the door with a shout saying he was going to the grocery store. Lucy glared at the table. Anything to glare at this point would be nice, any_one _would be better—

Max walked in. That was nice—her brother was always someone she could glare at.

"Yeah, Luce, we're going to see Mom and Dad, and I'm coming with you. Heard the whole conversation in there—" he added when her eyes widened, "—you weren't exactly subtle."

"I'm going to the grocery store." She said blandly, and got up and out just as he sat down.

_Sorry this chapter's a bit petty—more coming up soon, I hope. I just have to think of something. The visit to their parents should come, but something dramatic will happen eventually…_

_Mari_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

And thus was the end of their old routine, and the beginning of a new one.  
"Max, pass the potatoes."

"Aren't you going to say _please?"_

"Don't be a—"

"Careful, sis. Mommy and Daddy won't put up with that when we go home. They'll say 'Lucille, haven't you had enough potatoes for one night? You have such a beautiful figure, Darling, you know what potatoes can do…'"

"Max, _please _pass the potatoes."

"I don't like that tone missy, let's try this one more time."

"Max," Jude interfered in a very neutral tone, "give her the potatoes."

"No, you know what, never mind. I don't _want _the damn potatoes." Lucy snapped. She pushed off the table and marched off to her and Jude's bedroom. The door slammed abruptly, and the table was silent.

"You know, I really love when we have these kinds of dinners." Sadie commented, "Sit down at the table, with our shoes still on, and using actual _silverware..."_

"They're plastic forks." Prudence stated bluntly.

"Then it's plastic-ware. What difference does it make?"

Max stabbed his food miserably.

"If you don't want to go, I can always talk Lucy out of taking you." Jude told him reluctantly. It was obvious he didn't want to, but when your best friend's sister was also your girlfriend, there were sacrifices that had to made.

Max looked up and stared at him. "Are you kidding, man?"

"No, of course not."

He looked down again. "Nah… She's right. Gotta see them sometime."

"Max, are you feeling OK?" Jo-Jo asked him, his face twisted with worry.

"Honestly? No."

"I should have known better." Jo-Jo muttered.

"Much as I love my parents," Max continued, "I don't think the love is appreciated. For Lucy? I'm great. Super-duper!" he laughed fakely and got up. "'Night." He went to his own bedroom without another word.

Jude looked around awkwardly.

"So," Prudence chirped, "no more angry people! When's you next gig, Sadie?"

XXXXXXXXXX

"Lucy?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you say if… If, say, theoretically, I wanted to marry you?"

Her head jerked towards Jude, her eyes wide as saucers and all thoughts of writing her letter forgotten. "What do you mean, _theoretically_?"

"I'm only tryin' to get your opinion on it, that's all, just…"

"I… I would… I think I'd like it."

"You'd like it?"

"That's what I said, Jude."

"But you wouldn't _love _it?"

"What's the difference?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "It's your opinion I'm asking."

"I guess… I guess I would… _love _it, too."

"Lucy, will you marry me?"

"Yeah, alright."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Max stared at the couple sitting on the couch in front of him. Lucy was looking at him with a completely unrevealing expression, Jude with a slightly pleading one.

"Well… Yeah, this is great! Wow, Luce, never thought I'd see the day… Well, actually I did, but it was never someone like _Jude…_Congratulations, man." He stood up and patted him on the back, then moved on to hug Lucy. "Don't know what Mom and Dad'll say though." He told her, cramming himself in between them.

His sister suddenly grinned. It was a different type of grin, he noticed, then he'd seen a few weeks ago when she hadn't brought up their parents. Now it was slightly weary when looking at him, and he felt the guilt prick him when he realized he was the cause of that. "They'll freak out, of course."

"Just act naturally." He told her with a grin.

"Sorry Max, can't say the same to you." Jude noted.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Sadie, Jo-Jo, and Prudence were ecstatic of course—none of them surprised at all, but happy, nonetheless. And Max… well, he figured Lucy was going to be the one facing two extremely angry parental units—he wouldn't have to clash with them personally. So he gave Lucy a break.

Oh, who was he kidding? He would have given her a break whether Jude had gone out and popped the question or not. She was his little sister—he loved her either way. And if she wanted to visit their parents, then sure, why not? He would go with her and protect her.

But he would never _ever _let her know that.

So. It was that simple. They would go in, say hello, spend one or two nights, and be back to New York before the week was over.

"Max, be serious."

"I'm _being _serious, _Lucille."_

She glared at him. "We can't stay two nights! What about Lizzy, and Julia?"

"They can take care of themselves."

"I want to see my sisters, Max."

"I do to. Just not as much as I _don't _want to see Mom and Dad."

"Six nights."

"Two."

"Five."

"Three."

"Four nights, and we leave on the fifth. That's it, Max."

"Fine, fine. Four nights. But that's it!"

Lucy shook her head. "Yes, Maxwell, that's it. You need a haircut."

He looked at her incredulously for a minute, then walked out and into the 'whatever room'.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Max, shut up!"

"You're knocking too softly!"

"It doesn't matter! As long as they heard it."

"You haven't spent two years in New York for nothing, sis. Be realistic."

"Max!"

"Lucy!"

Jude jabbed the doorbell unceremoniously—that shut them both up.

There was a moment of silence, in which Lucy shifted closer to her lover in a futile attempt to get warmer.

Quiet. And then—

"What if they're not in?" she bit her lip and huddled her coat about her a bit tighter.

"Lucy, you _wrote to them."_ Jude reminded her gently, hugging her to him. He was freezing too.

"I know, but what if they didn't get the letter—"

"They wrote _back._"

"Oh. Right."

They were silent once more.

"Jude, ring the doorbell again." Max muttered.

"No! It'll bother them. And then—" Lucy piped.

"How do you do it?" her brother interrupted irritably.

"How do I do what?"

"Manage to make yourself a nervous wreck—"

"I am not a nervous wreck!"

"You are! Look at you, you're shivering—"

"Because I'm _cold—"_

"No, because—"

The door clicked open. Mrs. Carrigan poked her head out and smiled. "Oh my goodness, get inside quickly!"

Jude sighed gratefully and they all trooped in, their boots covered in snow and their cheeks red from the cold.

"Lucy!" Mrs. Carrigan embraced her daughter before she could take off her coat. Max and Jude hung theirs up meticulously before turning to the older woman, who greeted them warmly.

"How are you, Maxwell?" she fussed, straightening his blouse and combing through his hair with her fingers.

"Good, Mom." He let her do it, knowing that later she would get tired of him.

"And Jude!" she turned to the other man, "Lucy's told me how you got a job illustrating for a magazine." Mrs. Carrigan took in his appearance with a critical eye—Lucy was grateful she had made both boys neaten up before they'd left. She looked at her fiancée proudly and smiled.

"Uh, yes…"

"Mom, can't we go in before we start talking?" Lucy urged her mother.

"Oh yes, of course! Your father's waiting in the living room."

She led them through the hallway into the living room, where her father sat reading a book. Lizzy and Julia were playing with a kitten by the fire, and a Christmas tree stood merrily, decorated and cheerful. There was man about her age in the corner, twiddling his thumbs and smiling nervously.

What kind of idiot _twiddled his thumbs?_ She'd always thought it was just an expression…

Her father looked up at their entrance and went over to greet them.

Ah, her father. _That _was whom she had truly been worried about. He had accepted it pretty well when she told him she didn't want to go to college anymore, because she was a girl, and girls didn't _need _college education, even though her mother, who had desperately wanted her to have one, had been upset for a week. He had accepted it when she told him she wanted to stay with Max, because shouldn't young men take care of their sisters? Her mother had given her the same lecture she'd given her before she'd gone to give him the draft letter, and had let her go off.

She doubted he would accept the fact that she would marry Jude, and that she would live in an apartment with him and Max, and would work as a waitress till she found a better job that wouldn't require a college degree. And… she'd never quite told either of her parents that Max was a taxi-driver.

But they didn't need to know that on the first day.

"I've missed you, Dad." She lied, hugging him. Truth was, she'd barely thought of him since she'd been in New York. There had been Max, and meeting Jude, and Vietnam, and meeting Sadie, and falling in love with Jude, and meeting Jo-Jo and Prudence, and the fight with Jude, and then Jude coming back…

Her mother had called her at least once a week, and eventually, she'd begun to call her herself. But her father had never really bothered, so she hadn't either.

"You too, Lucille. Look at you, so grown up!"

She smiled and turned embrace her sisters. Julia was nearly as tall as she was now.

"What's this?" she asked her with a grin. She loved Julia—while Max had been her favorite brother, Julia had been her favorite sister.

"Growth spurt." Her sister sighed.

"Who's the guy in the corner?"

"Johnny B. Goode." Lizzy grinned evilly and whispered in her elder sister's ear, "he's your Christmas present, Lucy." She pulled back. "At least, Dad's present."

She looked at the man again. He was looking very determinedly at his shoe laces from his corner of the room. He hadn't even gotten up to greet her, and sat with his legs crossed, still twiddling his thumbs.

Lucy snorted. "He couldn't be."

Julia nodded sadly. "He is."

"For _me?" _she demanded, an expression of pure shock on her face.

"Mmhm."

"He's… He's…"

"A moron. I think that's the point."

Lucy turned from her sisters back to Max and Jude, and Lizzy and Julia followed.

Goode finally got up and came to greet them.

"Lucy," her mother told her gently, "That's Mr. Johnny Goode."

She put on her best fake smile and shook the man's hand. "I'm Lucy."

"I know," he said matter-of-factly.

Max stuck out his hand. "I'm Max, and this is Jude."

He didn't return either man's greeting.

"Johnny's a friend of Aunt Eleanor's." Mr. Carrigan informed them.

"Ah." Lucy nodded slowly.

"He works in a bottle factory. He designs lids."

"Well, someone's gotta do it." She heard Max mutter to Jude.

"That must be very interesting, Johnny." Lucy's head bobbed faster, and she spoke louder, in an attempt to appear fascinated.

She thought it must be working, because Johnny gave her a gape-toothed smile and said, "My boss says mine are some of the most efficient he's ever seen."

"Oh, well…"

"Oh, look at the time everyone!" Mrs. Carrigan gasped, "Lucy, Lizzy, Julia, would you help me set the dinner table?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grateful for the excuse, the three girls took off after their mother into the kitchen.

Dinner started out like any Carrigan family dinner. She sat comfortably between Max and Jude, across from her mother, aunt, and sisters. Her father, uncle, and Johnny Goode sat on either ends of Jude and Max, and they were all having their lovely two-days-before-Christmas dinner.

"You haven't told us, Max, what you're working in now."

"Everything. You know, Uncle Teddy, odd jobs here and there." Max replied pleasantly. But Lucy could obviously see the distaste in both of their eyes.

"Nothing you've got your mind set on, eh?"

"Nope."

"Max, please pass the potatoes." Lucy interrupted softly.

He reached over for the bowl, and her mother gave her a reproachful look. "Lucille, haven't you had enough potatoes for one night? You have such a beautiful figure, Darling, you know what potatoes can do…"

Max snorted.

"Ah. Yes, well, never mind then, Max, _don't _pass the potatoes."

"I think potatoes are the most useful vegetable." Goode piped up in his nasal voice.

"How so, Johnny?" Max asked him. Lucy was impressed; his voice didn't sound mocking at all.

"Fed thousands a few decades ago…"

"Before the famine in Ireland." Julia added kindly.

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Oh course." The whole table nodded their heads.

Silence, again.

"Lucy, you're nearly twenty." Mr. Carrigan said suddenly.

She looked up politely at her father. "Yeah…"

"Were there kids in that life plan of yours?"

A year ago, she would have repeated what she had said to Emily, before Daniel was killed and her plans changed. Now, she stared at her father blankly, before Jude squeezed her hand under the table and brought her out of her reverie. It was a little early to tell them, but…

"Actually, yes."

"Oh?"

"I've been meaning to tell you…Actually, it was only last week…"

Her mother's eyes widened considerably. "Lucy, you haven't… you aren't…"

Lucy blushed. "No! Of course not." She shook her head vehemently, then turned to smile at Jude. "We're getting married."

Mr. Carrigan paled slightly. Mrs. Carrigan looked at her plate. Max took a bite of his chicken, unsurprised, and Jude smiled a little. Uncle Teddy's face was red, Aunt Rose's lips tightened. Julia grinned, Lizzy smiled, and Goode… Goode twiddled his thumbs.

"That's..." Mrs. Carrigan began cautiously.

"Great!" Julia burst out excitedly, "Lucy, I'm so happy for you! When's the wedding?"

"We 'aven't decided yet," Jude said hesitantly, "But soon, hopefully."

"You haven't _asked_ me yet." Mr. Carrigan said pointedly.

"I was going to do that first, sir," Jude told him genuinely, "But since you brought it up, I didn't get the opportunity."

"Well, Jude," Mr. Carrigan replied, slightly miffed, "I hardly know you!"

Julia quickly put in, "If you were to stay a little longer, maybe—"

"I'm sure if you were here two weeks it wouldn't be too bad. And then, maybe if you would wait a year before you were actually married… that is, if you were actually married…"

"We all have work, Mom." Lucy pointed out.

"I'm sure you could get a break. Or maybe we could visit _you_!"

Max choked on whatever he'd been chewing. "I don't think…"

"That is, there's not much space, we're still renting rooms," Jude covered up quickly. Lucy took a breath again.

"Oh I'm sure we wouldn't take up too much space. You're friends with the other tenants, aren't you? I'm sure one of them wouldn't mind sharing with you."

"It would be difficult, Mom." Lucy replied, thinking of Sadie's reaction were she ever told she would have to move out of her room.

"Then we'll get you three a nice apartment."

"We have to be able to _get _to work, so I think it just—"

"Lucy, we're coming to visit you."

"Jude, what do you think?" Max interrupted suddenly.

There was an awkward silence. Lucy was reminded of their first Thanksgiving together, when he'd been asked a similar question.

"We…We've been meaning to move, 'aven't we, Lucy?"

Lucy nodded slowly.

"We can afford it now, and Sadie's is getting a little small, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. And there's no mirror in the bathroom…"

"Right, and it wouldn't be too hard to find a place near work, you know—"

"No, it really wouldn't."

"It'd be really easy, actually—"

Mrs. Carrigan beamed widely. "It's all settled then. We'll visit you some time in February, and then we'll see about weddings."

Lucy let out a breath. Jude patted her knee, Max went on eating.

The Carrigans in New York… that would be something.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The rest of Christmas passed rather uneventfully. Her parents watched Jude a lot more often, and questioned him, too, but he didn't seem to mind too much. Johnny B. Goode seemed to have been shunted aside in the Carrigan household, now that he was no longer needed. He departed the morning of the day they were to leave, and was sent of cheerfully enough.

Lucy was asleep most of the car ride home, having chosen to sit in the back of Max's old convertible. Jude sat up front with Max, who was in a happy mood.

"Well, now we don't have to see them for a while."

"They'll be in New York in February, you know." Jude pointed out.

"Yeah, but _you're _the one they'll be watching like a hawk, not me."

"They're not _that _bad."

"That's because you're clean shaven, and wore those trousers of yours the entire time."

Jude turned slightly pink. "Lucy packed for all of us. She just happened to have found something presentable in me closet."

"Yeah, maybe next time she shouldn't do that."

"Maybe."

Max grinned evilly. "They're going to love New York."

Jude shook his head. "Do whatever you want, Max, but I'm not joining you."

"No more going to the League of Spiritual Deliverance?"

"We only did that once!"

"I was joking! So when do you plan on moving?"

"Soon as we get back, I suppose we'd better start looking."

"Poor Judey and Lucille. You'll be trapped with my parents all alone for at least a month."

Jude looked surprised. "You're not moving with us?"

Max snorted. "Of course not. I like Sadie's."

"Won't they expect you to?"

"Let 'em expect what they want, I'm not going anywhere. I'll visit you a lot though, obviously. So there really won't be much difference between me living there and visiting."

Jude shook his head. "You're disgusting."

Max grinned again. "Yeah, that's ok."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Their new apartment nearly made Lucy cry. Sadie's had been colorful, unique, and a reflection of everyone's personality. It had been their _home_, a haven when times had been bad and the place where they'd come together for the first time.

The new place was everything Lucy and Jude weren't. It wasn't huge, but the walls were white and the floors were a bare, sandy colored wood. There was no furniture, and they'd had no furniture to move, so they would be at Sadie's for a while till they'd made it livable.

Jo-Jo and Prudence had come by once (it was a little after 3:00, and Sadie had decided to sleep in) and told them bluntly that it needed repairs.

"Yeah, Jo, I 'adn't noticed." Jude replied sarcastically.

"Man, you're an artist. Paint the walls, do something with it!"

"I don't think Lucy's parents would like it."

"You're marrying Lucy, not her parents, aren't you?"

"I suppose."

"Fix the place, Jude; it makes my eyes hurt." Prudence ordered.

"Where's Lucy, anyways?" Jo-Jo asked.

"Work. She should be back pretty early though—she got permission to get off at four for the next two weeks to fix this place up."

"That new boss is a lot better than the old one, huh?"

"Yeah. Food is better there too." Prudence put in. "So have you started looking yet?"

"For furniture?"

"Duh."

"No."

"You know, I think Sadie has a few things she needs to get rid of." Jo-Jo said wisely, "Maybe you could get some from her."

Jude's face brightened considerably. Furniture from Sadie _had _to bring more color to the place. And Jo-Jo was right—he was marrying Lucy, not her parents, and he would paint those walls if it was the last thing he ever did. "That's a good idea. Is she coming by today?"

"No gig today for once, so maybe."

The door creaked open, and Lucy came in, her hair pulled back in a neat bun. She pulled her coat off, revealing the blue waitress uniform she wore everyday to work.

"Where's Sadie?" she asked, walking over to them.

"Sleeping in." Prudence replied.

"It really is a gray place, isn't it?" she murmured, after she'd gone into another room and changed.

"I'll fix them," Jude promised, "You'll hardly recognize the place by the time your parents are here."

"I think you should leave their room as it is," Lucy laughed, "They might be a little scared."

"So, are we ready to go?" Jo-Jo questioned, walking over to where the coats had been dumped in a corner by the door.

"Yeah!" Prudence jumped up from where she had been sitting cross-legged, and grabbed the thick sweater she usually wore. Lucy and Jude followed more slowly, and the four of them trooped out the door.

There was a furniture dealer a few blocks away that sold cheaply. They picked out a kitchen table, a few chairs, and a sofa. The mattress store next door was a bit more entertaining—Prudence bounced up and down on each display, to "test it's endurance", as she put it. Jo-Jo actually fell asleep on one of the mattresses, and Lucy sat in a perfect meditative trance for about an hour, eyes closed, back straight, legs crossed—which left Jude as the only one to actually pick a mattress. Of course, he couldn't do too much without Lucy's help, and eventually gave her a jab in the abdomen to get her up.

"How difficult can it be to pick a _mattress_?" she demanded. "There, I think the one I was sitting on is fine. Wake Jo-Jo up, get Prudence, and let's go."

He thought it best if he did as he was told. It was times like these when Lucy was more likely to snap at him if he didn't.

They went out of the store with a promise of delivery within twenty-four hours. Jude and Lucy went to the home-improvement store to pick out a few colors, and Jo-Jo and Prudence left for home, claiming that they were hungry and that Sadie needed to wake up anyways. By the time Max, Sadie, Jo-Jo, Lucy, Prudence, and Jude were assembled again, it was nearly nine o'clock, and they were having take-out, gathered around the sofa in the 'whatever room'.

"So when are the parents coming?" Sadie inquired, taking a bite of her food.

"February fifth." Max answered miserably.

"Julia and Lizzy aren't coming, are they?"

"Nope."

"Ouch."

"They're coming for Lucy and Jude—not my problem."

"They'll want to see you too, Max," Lucy reminded him.

"Yeah, but not as much as they'll want to see you, Lucille, darling." He retorted.

"It can't be _all _that bad," Jude pointed out, "I don' think they hated me that much."

"They didn't hate you at all," Lucy told him quickly, "before we left, Mom said you were charming."

"That's encouraging." Sadie put in.

"I don't know about Dad though."

"I don' _want _to know about your father."

"You know Jude, when my parents are gone, I think your mother should come too."

"It's a little more difficult with me mum. She loves Liverpool—don't ask me why—but she never got it in her head to go away for any amount of time."

"You should get her out of there," Sadie remarked, "Friend of mine—lives in Florida—she never stepped out of her apartment after high school. I hear she's still in there now."

"I don't think me mum's quite as bad—"

"But she might get that way. She should see the world while she can, Judey."

"I'll think about it. A trip to the US from Liverpool is expensive, you know?"

"Sleep on it." Prudence urged.

There were a few beers passed around in celebration of their new furniture, and Sadie showed them the things she wanted to get rid of—an old wardrobe, dressing table, and lamp. Lucy liked them all—they were very dignified, which was probably why Sadie wanted to get rid of them, and would go nicely in her parents' bedroom.

Finally, at around three in the morning, the lot of them disbanded into their separate rooms and fell asleep for the night.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jude fixed the walls. Thank God, he thought, when he was done. The place had been far too tidy and blank for his liking. And sure, it wasn't quite as chaotic an apartment as Sadie's, but he liked it, because it was theirs, and they were going to be living in it for a while, hopefully.

It wasn't too bad, actually, now that they'd furnished and painted it. It could be their home—he thought the idea was alright. And they had mirrors two mirrors in the bathroom, and two more besides that, so he could shave without worrying that he'd missed a spot anymore. And Lucy had done such a nice job arranging things.

They sank into a sort of bliss, having their own place, with their own furniture, and on their own time. It was nice, being able to wake up in the morning without worrying that if he ran the water too loudly Sadie would stir awake and he'd ruin her gig that night, or not having Max barge into their bedroom whenever he pleased, or Jo-Jo's guitar at odd hours in the morning, or Prudence's occasional sulking… he loved them all, but having Lucy to himself was better. And it wasn't like they didn't visit anyways—Max had a key, and he wasn't above coming over completely unannounced at around midnight, or lending it to the others; and Sadie's gigs were an everyday event. So the others weren't out of their lives.

February fifth came far too early in Jude's opinion. It seemed that suddenly, Lucy was rushing around everywhere to clean, and he was forced to help. They borrowed a vacuum from Sadie, and Prudence volunteered to help clean too. Max was given yet another haircut and made to get rid of the mustache he had once again attempted to grow. There was a small welcoming party being held in their honor with Sadie, Prudence, Max, and Jo-Jo in attendance.

"Right," Lucy began, frowning slightly. She had them all gathered on the couch in their nicest, most respectable clothing—even Sadie had a mellowed look about her. "You all know what to do. _Be nice._"

"Yes, Mommy." Max muttered sarcastically.

There was a knock on the door—they had no doorbell—and Max went and opened it slowly.

Introductions were made quickly enough. There was casual conversation, and dinner, and a few remarks about the apartment and how… _original _it was. Then those who didn't live there left, and Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan were settled into their room promptly at nine o'clock.

And the week began.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lucy was the first one up, as she had always been. But the morning after the Carrigans had arrived, Jude stirred awake just as she was about to leave the room.

"Lucy?" he murmured blearily.

She turned around, surprised at the sound of his voice, and went to sit at the foot of the bed. "Did I wake you?" she murmured, as he sat up.

"No…what time is it?"

"Around six…why?"

"I thought I should help you make breakfast… we're four people now…"

She got up and went to his side of the bed. "That's very sweet of you, Jude, but you're hardly awake."

"That's alright…"

She kissed him lightly. "If you insist."

He got out of bed and dressed quickly, and soon enough, Lucy had ten eggs on the stove and a blender full of pancake mix on the side while Jude cut up some fruit. Two hours later, Mrs. Carrigan came into the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day.

"Can I help you with anything, Lucy?"

"No, I think we're fine. Sit down, Mom…"

Mrs. Carrigan settled herself carefully in a chair around the kitchen table. She sat there for a while observing the walls, then her daughter, then her daughter's betrothed, and back to the walls…

"Would you like something to drink, Mrs. Carrigan?" Jude asked her politely, putting down plates, silverware (theirs was actually made of metal. They figured it would be cheaper to reuse.), napkins, and cups in a very orderly fashion that neither he nor Lucy had ever seen at Sadie's.

"Oh no, I'll wait." The older woman replied quickly. There was another pause. Then, "You have very nice walls."

"Thank you." Jude said humbly.

"He painted them," Lucy told her from her spot by the stove, "he just doesn't like to say anything. Jude, pass me the tomatoes." She added. He did as he was told, blushing, and Mrs. Carrigan beamed.

"They _are_ beautiful, dear." Yes, Mrs. Carrigan was very pleased. She liked that the boy was sensitive, that he had gotten up with her daughter to make breakfast. And he was just so _polite_! If Desmond didn't like the boy, she'd make sure to try and talk him around.

"So what's to be done today?" she inquired.

"Work." The both of them replied in unison.

"And then dinner, of course." Jude added.

"Max wanted to see you," Lucy commented absently. Mrs. Carrigan raised her eyebrows, but Lucy didn't notice as she put plates of scrambled eggs and pancakes on the table. "He said he wanted to show you around the city." Her daughter added.

"_Max?" _

"I only have one brother, Mom."

"By himself?"

"Yes. He got a day off from work just for the occasion." It was only a half-lie. He'd gotten the day off only to spend it lazing in front of the TV with his new girl… Lily, was it? She could never remember these days. Those women went fast. But he was free, anyways, and that meant that he could baby-sit and make sure they didn't get run over during rush hour. Besides, it was his turn, and they were his parents too.

"No no, Lucy, I think I have a better idea."

"Mom, Max—"

"Don't lie, Lucille, it doesn't suit you. No, I think we'll go to work with Jude."

She had to work very hard to keep her jaw from dropping, and from where Jude was slicing more fruit there was loud yelp as he cut himself by accident.

Lucy went over to where he was with a napkin at the ready and wrapped his palm in it.

"I—I don' think you'd be very entertained, Mrs. Carrigan." Jude told her with a slight gasp when Lucy started cleaning his cut.

"Nonsense, I've always wanted to see an artist at work!"

"But what about Mr. Carrigan?"

"He's not an art person Mom, you know that." Lucy put in cautiously.

"Yes, but he wants to get to know his possible future son-in-law." She emphasized the word 'possible' very discreetly—still, they both got the point.

"Really, Mrs. Carrigan, all I do is paint and sketch—"

"That's fascinating, dear."

"Mom, I really think—"

"Tell me again who you work for, Jude?"

"Sadie." He told her, finally giving up. "At Strawberry Jamz. I designed their logo."

"The woman we met last night?"

"That's her."

"She's very tall."

Lucy snorted inconspicuously, and even Jude had to suppress a smile.

Suddenly the front door banged open, as it tended to do when Max came, and there was a shout of "Lucy!" and heavy footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen.

"What's for breafa— Oh, hi Mom. Forgot you were here."

Lucy wanted to bang her head somewhere.

"Good morning, Max." Her mother answered dryly. "Do you usually come here at this hour?"

"This hour, or the next, or the one after… you know how it is."

"Of course." Mr. Carrigan appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. "Good morning Maxwell, Lucy."

"'Morning, Dad." They both replied in unison.

"Good morning, Mr. Carrigan." Jude greeted politely. He gave a small wave with his free hand—Lucy was still bandaging the other.

"I thought we might see how Jude works today, Desmond."

"That would be very informative, I think." Mr. Carrigan's eyebrows furrowed and his face wore a very serious expression, as though he were trying to find any trace of mal-doing in Jude's still slightly bewildered features.

"Max, put the eggs in a bowl, everyone sit down." Lucy interrupted suddenly, slightly irritated by her family's antics.

There wasn't too much conversation over the table—just the regular banter between Lucy, Jude, and Max. Then, finally, it was time to leave.

Lucy kissed each of her boys on the cheek and hugged her parents, wishing them a nice day, and saying that she would see them for dinner. She usually started work a little later, because she was employed in the recording studio as one of the editors (having abandoned her waitress job shortly after Sadie offered her a better position at Strawberry Jamz) and that meant she had to wait for the singers themselves to come in. Still, somehow she knew it would be a very, _very _long day.

_Reviews very much appreciated!_

_Mari_


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jude was starting to… _greatly dislike _his fiancé's father. A lot. The man had been breathing down his neck the entire morning, while he tried to start painting the outline he'd made yesterday for Sadie's newest album, _Revolution. _But there was Mr. Carrigan constantly making colors like "It doesn't _look _like Sadie at all, if that's who you're trying to capture, young man. Sadie's hair is darker, and she'd much taller. Who is that supposed to be in the background, anyways?"

In the very back, discreetly leaning against a wall, was a slim, blond woman in a very modest white dress, holding a bowl of strawberries. It was, of course, a vague representation of Lucy—she was in most of his artwork these days again—but he wasn't about to tell her father that.

"A woman."

"I can see that—it's not Lucy, is it? Because I won't stand for my little girl to be in a published painting. Is, it Jude? Answer me!"

"It could be, Mr. Carrigan, if you want it to be, and if it's not, that works too."

"Desmond, please leave the boy alone."

"I thought you illustrated for magazines." Mr. Carrigan asked after he'd calmed down.

"I do that too. Mostly this, though."

"Two jobs? You won't have any time for my daughter, at this rate."

"I plan to quit the magazine job when I marry her."

"Then you won't be able to afford it—"

"Look, Mr. Carrigan, I really do have to work—"

"He's right, Desmond. Leave the poor boy."

"The whole point of coming—"

"Was to watch quietly."

There was a knock on the door of the studio, and Jude wanted to kick something. But then Lucy popped her head in, waved to her parents, and blew him a kiss. He grinned, thinking of other times when they'd exchanged much more passionate greetings, before she'd have to run off so she wouldn't be late. In front of her parents, however, it was slightly difficult.

"Is that for _Revolution?_" She inquired, her eyes widening at the half started painting.

"It should be." Jude replied, trying not to hint at anything.

"Sadie's in the studio right now."

"Shouldn't you be going, then, Lucy?" Her father demanded.

"No, I don't work with Sadie. Makes for too much bias in the company. When'll you break, Jude?"

"When this is close to finishing."

"Ten o'clock."

"Something like that."

"I'll come here, then."

"See you then, Love."

"Have a nice day, Lucille." Mrs. Carrigan added as the door shut behind her daughter.

Jude sighed softly, and began his work again, at signal from Mr. Carrigan's loud cough.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At lunch, Lucy came to the art studio with Sadie (who woke up at regular times on weekdays) and Jo-Jo and a half-awake Max, and Prudence dropped in from… wherever Prudence went these days.

"Wouldn't it be better to have Jude come to you, dear?" Mr. Carrigan asked loudly. "You being all over there…"

"We like looking at Jude's work." Prudence told him lightly. Mr. Carrigan looked surprised that she had dared to say anything at all, and was quiet for a few precious moments.

"What's for lunch, Luce?" Max asked in a painfully cheery tone.

"Left over dinner."

"Surely that's not healthy—"

"It's fine, Mom. Better than letting it go to waste."

"Now, is that because you can't _afford _more food, or—"

"Mr. Carrigan," Jude cut in firmly, "There are children in Africa who have never seen so much food in their lives, and all those victims of the war in Vietnam, and those people on the streets. We really would rather not waste."

Mr. Carrigan didn't answer; Mrs. Carrigan patted her daughter's shoulder proudly, with a murmured, "That's very good, dear."

They ate in silence, with Sadie occasionally saying something, and Jo-Jo responding, and Lucy smiling. It was very quiet, compared to the usual.

"Where's dessert, sis?" Max asked after they'd all finished. Max never asked for dessert.

"I didn't—"

"Maybe you should start, Lucy."

"You said you didn't _like _sweets, and now suddenly—"

"You know, I could use a bite for dessert, too." Sadie asked nicely.

_Oh!_ Lucy realized what they were trying to do.

"You know, Maxwell, I don't think it's appropriate to ask your sister of these things at all." Mr. Carrigan told his son pointedly. "She already feeds you on a daily basis, _you_, a full-grown man—"

"Actually, I think I want some ice cream." Lucy stopped her father and got up, pulling Jude along with her.

"Come on Jude," she told him dully, "you can help me carry it back."

"Ok." Jude replied, shrugging.

The couple stepped out, just as Max called after them, "I want chocolate!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They walked down the street hand in hand, enjoying the rare moment of freedom. The beautiful thing about working with Sadie, is that you were never rushed to do _anything,_ so lunch was about an hour long. They had all the time in the world to walk to the small Italian store that sold gelato (at least, the owner _claimed _that's what it was. Jude couldn't quite determine what it _actually _was, but they ate it anyways).

His arm had moved to hold her by the waist as they walked and they were now laughing over something Max had said earlier.

"I'm a little mad at him, actually." Lucy said mildly.

"Why is that, Lucille?" he asked playfully.

"Now I'm mad at you too."

He pulled her around a corner and kissed her. She pulled away and glared at him. "What, is that your cure-all?" But it had worked, because in a few minutes, they were happily walking again.

"Why are you mad at Max, love?"

"Because he agreed to baby-sit Mom and Dad just a little—he's just picking on them and me."

"He didn't _really _say he was going to give them a tour, Lucy, you know he didn't."

"Yes, but he did actually say he'd be nice to them."

"That's Maxwell for you."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "My father's use of our names is rubbing off on you."

"You're father's been breathing down my neck all morning. Excuse me if I slip, a little."

Lucy snorted, "That's Desmond Carrigan for you."

They rounded the corner in silence, enjoying each other's company.

"Jude?" Lucy asked him suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"When my parents leave, we don't really have to wait a few years." She said softly.

"I would have if you'd wanted to, you know."

"I know. That's why you don't."

"Lucy?"

"Yes?" they went into the store with small smiles on their faces.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jude. Now hold this." And she handed him two tubs of ice cream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Jude,_

_Saved up enough to come visit. Pick me up at the port Saturday at four._

_Love,_

_Mum_

Jude blinked, and stared at the paper.

"Jude?" Lucy prodded him gently. He had just been about to turn out the light, but hadn't.

She looked over his shoulder and read the note. Her eyes widened considerably and her cheeks turned red.

"She—she—" Lucy stammered. "When was this written? When is she coming."

"Last Sunday, and…She's coming…tomorrow, actually."

Lucy turned sharply and buried her head in her pillow. He heard a small scream before she reemerged, even redder.

"You wrote her and told her, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"So you knew she was coming! Why didn't you say anything? Where will she sleep? What'll she do all day? Jude, answer me!" She shook him by the shoulders frantically.

"She can sleep on the sofa." He mumbled, slightly shocked.

"No she can't! That's an awful place to sleep! No. No, we'd better put her up in our room, and we can stay at Sadie's."

"Lucy, we moved here so your parents could visit."

"Yes, but it was meant to be one set of visitors at a time!"

"So we're not moving. Besides, I can't leave me mum alone with your parents."

"Why not?"

"They'd eat her alive."

"Don't be ridiculous. If she could raise you, she can stand my parents."

"She's never met them before."

"You'd never met them before, and you're doing fine."

"Because I have you!"

"So what?"

"Why can't she stay in the living room?"

"A grown woman can't stay in the living room. It's a very public place."

"Fine. We can move the sofa somewhere."

"Or we can go to Sadie's."

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"You _know _why not!"

"No, I don't!"

"Lucy, I don't want to move to Sadie's."

She glared at him profusely. "Fine. Then where?"

"We're not moving anywhere. I can sleep in the studio, and you and Mum can share this room."

"It smells terrible in there, and you already spend too much time—"

"I'll air it a little, and do some cleaning."

Lucy shook her head. "You'll get scared of the dark, and then you'll come running here."

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm being serious, Lu."

She smiled teasingly. "I know you are, and it's so weird that I'm making fun of you for it. I guess that's the only way, then."

"It is, I suppose." Almost four weeks ago he'd brought his future in-laws to work. His mum couldn't be much more difficult. He'd missed her, actually, since she'd last seen him and told him to chase after Lucy.

"It won't be for too long. Mom and Dad are leaving in three days, so then she can move into their room."

"Yup." He smiled a little. "If _you _get scared in the dark, I can tell you the studio won't be much better."

She punched him with a pillow, and they went to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning Mrs. Carrigan stared at her daughter in shock.

"Let me go through this one more time," she said slowly. "Mrs. Feeney, Jude's mother, is coming to visit."

"Yes."

"And he's come to get her from the port right now?"

"Yes."

"With Max."

"Yes."

"And you're here, making dinner for five people by yourself?"

"Actually, Prudence should be here in two or three minutes, so it's actually six." And, as though right on cue, there was light knocking on the door, and Prudence's call of "I have groceries!"

Lucy rushed to open the door and let the girl in quickly, relieving her of the five bags she'd somehow managed to carry.

"Hi, Mrs. Carrigan." Prudence greeted cheerfully as they went into the kitchen. "Wow, Luce. You know, you should just have a big old family reunion while you're at it."

Lucy paled slightly at the thought. "I really don't think that's a good idea, Pru. Here, you can chop stuff."

Soon enough the kitchen was in full swing, with Prudence, Lucy, and Mrs. Carrigan working to make the table beautiful.

At around eleven the door clicked open and Max, Jude, and Mrs. Feeney entered the apartment, Jude carrying a small valise in one arm.

Mrs. Feeney wasn't a large woman, but she was darkly colored, like Jude, and she could see the resemblance. Lucy hugged the woman, and the latter exclaimed over her possible daughter-in-law.

"What a pretty girl you are!" Her accent was even heavier than Jude's, who had spent enough time in the states for it to lessen considerably. Her voice though, was softer, and naturally wispy. "Thin though—Jude, you really should feed your girl more often."

"She feeds the both of us, Mum."

"Well then, she's a trooper. I've always said he's got the stomach of a cow, that lad." She confided.

Lucy grinned, "Can't say otherwise."

Jude kissed the back of her head and went to put his mother's bag in its proper place. Mrs. Carrigan eyed the other woman carefully—Desmond was out on some business he'd had to take care of in New York, so she was on her own for this one.

"How are you, Mrs. Feeney? I'm Maggie Carrigan, Lucy's mother."

Mrs. Feeney looked at her in the same way and smiled. "Please, call me Martha."

"Then I'm Maggie." Mrs. Carrigan decided she couldn't tell whether she liked her or not.

"How do you do, Maggie?"

"Very well, thank you, Martha."

"Luce, are we eating?" Max interrupted smoothly (well, as smoothly as _Max _could interrupt).

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's all ready in the kitchen."

Lucy showed them the way, and over dinner, there was very little conversation.

"So, dears," Mrs. Feeney asked when they were comfortably settled in the living room, Jude's arm around Lucy's shoulders. "When are you planning to marry?"

Last week, the Carrigans had agreed at last to the wedding, and that had been as far as their plans had proceeded.

"We… don't really know yet, actually."

"I'd like to be there, naturally."

Jude smiled, "We wouldn't 'ave it otherwise, Mum."

"So that will probably mean I will be staying until then."

"Unfortunately, as soon as Desmond comes back from business, we'll be going home."

"You'll know the date before we do, Mom." Lucy said softly. Her eyelids were drooping, and her head was positioned easily on Jude's shoulder.

"And then of course there's the guest list." Mrs. Carrigan said matter-of-factly.

"I suppose you won't want to invite to many others from Liverpool, Love?" Mrs. Feeney asked her son with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Can't think of anyone." Jude replied apologetically. "I 'aven't really kept in touch."

"There's Grandpa and Grandma Carrigan, and Granny Rigby. And Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Teddy, and your cousins. And Johnny B. Goode was such a kind young man—"

"Mom, I really don't think it's going to be that big."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucy, you _have _to have the family."

"Yes, but won't you and Dad and Jules and Liz be enough?"

"I'm going to assume you automatically count me in there." Max said a little huffily.

"And, of course, Sadie and Jo and Pru." Jude added promptly.

Prudence smiled a little, though she didn't contribute much in the conversation at all.

"Who will marry you?" Mrs. Feeney inquired.

"I know just the man!" Mrs. Carrigan exclaimed. "I'm sure Father McKenzie—"

Lucy wrinkled her nose. "I hate him. He was always such a pervert at dinner, when we had him over."

"Lucy, don't speak so of a holy man." Mrs. Carrigan told her daughter sharply.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "He's not marrying us, Mom."

"It's true Mom, I was there." Max said lightly.

"Maxwell, you are in no position to judge _anyone."_

"Mrs. Carrigan," Jude said softly, "It's getting a little late, and I'm sure Mum is tired and you need to rest for you trip tomorrow."

"That's right." Max murmured. "Pru, we should go."

Prudence nodded and pulled herself up, and she and Max exited softly. Mrs. Carrigan finally gave up and retired, and Mrs. Feeney and Lucy went to bed.

Jude sat on the sofa for a long time, thinking. The Carrigans were leaving tomorrow, but his mum would be there for a long time. He knew his mother—she wasn't a picky woman. She would leave when she was satisfied that her son was happy, and that he was making Lucy happy.

He was proud of Lucy—his mother seemed to like her a lot. Which probably meant that she would be fussed over non-stop until Mrs. Feeney went back to Liverpool. And Lucy really hated to be fussed over—but then again, it was her future mother-in-law who was fussing, so perhaps she would be slightly more tolerant.

And then of course, there was Max. It was obvious that his mother was a little doubtful about him—but honestly, what could he do? He was his best friend, and he wouldn't change him for anything. But it wouldn't be too bad if Max decided now was a good time to wash his hair more often and shave more carefully.

He got up slowly and headed for the studio, where he would spend the night. It was a little cold, but Lucy had put enough blankets on the ground that it wasn't too cool, and comfortable enough. It felt a little odd, to be by himself, without Lucy's steady breathing by him and her warm body radiating heat. But he didn't mind too much. It gave him some time to think without distraction, and he fell asleep facing a huge, half-finished painting he'd started some time last week of Lucy by the docks.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

And it was just as he shut his eyes that Jude realized he hadn't even given Lucy a ring.

He instantly sat up—immediately, his head started spinning. How had he forgotten to do something that obvious? He felt terrible. She was putting up with so much—sharing a room with his mother couldn't be very easy—and taking care of everyone, and him—_how _had he forgotten?

He had to do something about it. He had to do something about it _now. _He knew there would be jewelry stores open at this hour—it really wasn't that late, only ten or so. He was dressed in minutes, and soon enough he was on the phone with Max, who came at lightning speed.

He silently unlocked the door and made his way down the stairs of the apartment complex. Max was waiting in his yellow cab, with Sadie who had a night off, in the passenger seat.

"Couldn't let the both of you go by yourselves, man." Sadie said casually. "Max is an idiot, and you're not much better."

"Thanks, Sadie." Max replied sarcastically.

"Right then, where are we off to?" Jude asked promptly.

"There's a jewelry store that's open at all hours on Grant," Sadie told him, "Let's try there."

Max stepped on the gas, and they were off.

The process went quickly enough—the store sold nice rings for a decent amount of money. They ended up with a simple golden band with a sapphire in the middle and a ring of diamonds the stone—it reminded Jude of Lucy's eyes. Sadie thought it was pretty, and Max went on to say that his parents would definitely approve. And it was at a nice price.

They went home at around one in the morning. The apartment was silent as he went in, but then he noticed the light in the living room was on. He went in to see what was wrong—and there was Lucy, sitting on the couch and tapping her foot. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes and nose were a little red. She turned to look at him and gave him the most guilt-inducing stare he'd ever had—his own mother couldn't match that.

"So, Jude."

"Lucy, why aren't you asleep?"

"Oh, I don't know. I wake up in the middle of the night to go see how you're doing, and, lo' and behold, Jude Feeney isn't sound asleep. He's gone! I look for a note, nothing. Max isn't answering the phone, neither Jo-Jo nor Prudence have any idea what's going on, because _Sadie isn't there._ So tell me, what have you and my brother been doing with my former landlady?"

He'd let her go on uninterrupted, but he didn't like the way the conversation was turning.

"We went out."

"At one in the morning?"

"No, actually, it was ten."

"Can you explain _why?_"

"Actually, I can." He pulled a little red velvet box from his pocket and handed it to her, then plead his case. "I completely forgot about this, and I only remember a few hours ago. I felt _awful_…I'm so sorry Lucy, I don't know if you can forgive me…"

By then, she'd opened the box and was staring wide eyed at its content. "You..." she bit her lip and slipped the ring on her finger. "_I'd _forgotten about that, you know…I never got how you could remember these things…" She kissed him full on the lips for a whole minute. By the time they were done, they were both a little breathless.

"I'm sorry I didn't leave a note," he whispered, kissing her lightly.

"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry I panicked." She didn't kiss him so lightly.

"That doesn't matter either…"

There was a very timid knock on the door to the living room, and Mrs. Feeney walked in.

"My God, do you do this all the time?"

Lucy was red as a beet, but Jude grinned. "Only on occasion."

"He…he's an idiot, Mrs. Feeney. Look." Lucy held up her hand and showed the older woman the ring.

"Oh!" Mrs. Feeney came closer and took Lucy's hand in her own. "It's so pretty." Then she turned to her son and gave him a cuff on the side of his head. "How could you forget? You go out at this hour—" Lucy was impressed in spite of herself—the woman pieced things together very quickly, "—and wake her up, too!"

Jude rubbed the area sheepishly. "I know. I really am an idiot."

"But a sweet idiot," Lucy kissed his cheek for reassurance. "who needs to go to bed. So go." And with that, she sent him off to the studio. His mother looked after him, but it didn't seem as though Lucy was going anywhere. She stared at the door for a long time, before turning to Mrs. Feeney and smiling.

"Lucy," the older woman asked very sternly. "I like you. I think you're a good girl, with good intentions. But tell me honestly—do you love Jude?"

Lucy put her head in her hands. "Of course. Did he write to tell you what we'd been through?"

"Yes, but you can always have changed your mind."

"Not after that." Lucy shivered slightly. "I know I can never change my mind."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Carrigans were gone the next day. Unlike them, however, Mrs. Feeney was a considerably easier guest. Jude noticed his lover's growing friendship with his mother, and he felt a small sort of pride. So he wasn't too worried when, two weeks after she came, they both went to the grocery store one night, completely unconcerned about the fact that it was slightly cloudy and quickly getting dark. Actually, he _was _concerned, but he had to agree that their fridge was a little low on food, and he couldn't go with Lucy, because he had a deadline to meet. So Mrs. Feeney volunteered, and he relaxed a little.

It started raining about an hour after they were gone, and Jude's happy mood faded the tiniest bit. What if they got caught in the rain? The grocery store was only five blocks away, so they had no car, but New York was crawling with weirdos by this time.

It was only some rain.

Then it started pouring, about two hours after they were gone, and he worried a little more.

Three hours. Three hours, it was pouring, and they were still at the grocery store. What if someone had tried to rob them of their groceries? Images of two poor, undefended women being attacked by some drunk, hooded stranger ran through his mind, and he decided that maybe he should call Max and ask him if he could drive to the grocery store and check on them.

And then the door burst open, and Mrs. Feeney came in, dripping wet, panting horribly.

Jude was very close to panicking, by this point.

"Mum, what happened? Where's Lucy? What's going on?"

"She… She…" Mrs. Feeney inhaled, "She fainted, on the street. Banged her head and was burning with fever, so I called the ambulance…She's in the hospital, now, I think."

Jude was beginning to feel nauseous. Hit her head? Was it bad? How bad? How could this have happened?

"Jude!" Mrs. Feeney gave him a hard slap across the face.

He snapped out of his panicked trance. "Right, I'll call Max, you pack Lucy a few things for the hospital."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I can't believe this, man." Max muttered angrily. "Only Lucy could get herself hurt on a trip to the grocery store."

Jude couldn't laugh at this, as true a statement as it was. The doctor had called a few minutes ago, and he'd been told that Lucy was a little shaken, and bruised but otherwise fine. They'd given her medicine for her fever, and bandaged her head—they'd all breathed a sigh of relief, but Jude still couldn't shed the worry. Mrs. Feeney, Sadie, Prudence, and Jo-Jo had all somehow crammed themselves in the back seat, Prudence squashed on Jo-Jo's lap, and Mrs. Feeney and Sadie had double-buckled. Somehow, they'd been unable to convince any of them to stay at home.

The hospital was full to bursting at this time of night, and patients were being carted in by the hour. They spent thirty minutes in the waiting room before they were finally permitted to see her, and another twenty before she was finally awake.

Jude held her face in his hands carefully and she smiled blearily. "Hello, Judey." She murmured.

"God, Lucy." Max sighed, "You went to the _grocery store."_

"Pretty stupid, huh?"

"You bet."

"How's your head?" Sadie asked.

"Ok, I think. It feels a little fuzzy. I think I can go home tomorrow though, right?"

"If you're better. You got a concussion, and a pretty bad one." Jo-Jo answered.

"Did I?"

"Yes, Lucy."

"Oh. So I'm stuck here all night, right?"

"Yup." Prudence replied dully.

"You're sure you're ok, Luce?" Max asked a little more calmly. "If any doctor picks on you…"

"Max, go away." Lucy closed her eyes. Her brother grinned and said all too cheerfully, "Alright, sis. See you tomorrow."

Prudence, Jo-Jo, Sadie, and Mrs. Feeney all took that as cue to get out. They trooped out the door, Mrs. Feeney promising she'd be back tomorrow with some nice tea, but Jude stayed where he was.

"You can go too, Judey." Lucy said softly. She didn't really want him to, but he had a deadline to meet for work.

Jude shook his head thoroughly. "I'll go in a little bit. You gave me a fright."

Lucy snorted. "Only you would use that term."

"It's true."

"No one called Mom and Dad, did they?"

"I think Max did… he'll probably call them again later, though."

"No, he won't, because he's Max. He's bound to forget."

"Yeah, you're right."

"I'm always right."

"You wouldn't be in the hospital if you were always right, Love."

"Jude?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

Jude smiled. "Yeah, I suppose."

"You really can leave, you know. I'm fine."

"I know." He kissed her lovingly, and then stood. "I hate to leave you."

"Jude, go finish that painting of yours."

"I'll be back again, tomorrow morning, alright?"

"I love you Jude. Now go!"

He grinned and kissed her one more time, then left to finish his painting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lucy came home the next day, a little pale, but nonetheless intact. There was still a bandage on her head, and she got dizzy occasionally, but otherwise, she was fine. Mrs. Feeney had her in bed the entire day and made sure she didn't somehow sneak off to work. By the end of the ordeal, Lucy was about to explode, and she made that known.

"You're disgusting, Jude." She said dryly, as he brought her lunch on their only tray. He'd made sure that was decorated too—it was a psychedelic tray, and he hadn't even known that was possible. Their bedroom, too, was a shocking splash of color on one wall, and a series of doodles and charcoal images of Lucy, and various other subjects. As much as they'd tried to keep it neat, it was becoming more and more like their bedroom at Sadie's everyday.

He grinned. "Would it be better if I wore your apron?"

She rolled her eyes, and he brought her the tray without further ado.

She took one glance at it—the full to brimming mug of tea, the cracked plate with her some toast and cheese on it, and thrown on napkin—and had to suppress herself from smiling. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and looked at Jude very seriously.

"You really should stay away from the kitchen. Art is nice on paper and stuff, but I don't think you should try it with food." Then she pulled him to her and kissed him.

"I guess that means it's appreciated, though?"

"Of course it is. Here, have some of your own creation." She spread some cheese on the toast and handed it to him. He sat cross-legged on the bed in front of her and took a bite, while she spread cheese on another piece. It was a good thing it wasn't ant season—they'd never been much for plates.

"Where's Mrs. Feeney?"

"Writin', to me aunt."

"How long is she keeping me here?"

"I think she's doin' it tomorrow, too."

"Don't you find this a little ridiculous?"

"Mum fusses too much." He said carefully.

"Well, tell her I'm fine. She's _your _mother."

Jude smiled, "Which is exactly why I'm staying far away."

Max popped his head into their room suddenly. Lucy jumped a little. "Holy crap Max, where did you come from?"

"The sky? The clouds? Heaven?"

"Or hell."

"Actually, the bar." He chugged some beer from a bottle he'd been holding and threw the rest in the trash bin. "Look at you Luce. Having a nice day in bed?" He went and sat down next to Jude. "Having your young man wait on you hand and foot?"

"It's not that bad, actually." Jude grinned.

"I'm going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?" Lucy snapped to the both of them.

"That's ok." Jude shrugged, "As long as you only kill Max."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was as though someone had pressed a button. One minute, she was perfectly fine. The next, she was in the hospital. The third, Lucy Carrigan had lost her mind.

Lucy crossed that passage out dully and crumpled up the page. It was far too dramatic. It did fit though—she could have banged her head on a wall, but that would only make her headache worse, so she'd decided against that early on. There was a little part of her that said _Maybe you just shouldn't listen._ But she knew better.

No, actually she didn't. She was rather tired of sitting in bed when there was nothing wrong with her, and she was tired of Mrs. Feeney's talks on the phine with Mrs. Carrigan about the wedding, and various plans, and who to invite, and so on and so forth…as far as she was concerned, they'd told her she was set to wed in about six months. The invitations hadn't gone out yet, but they were being printed, and would be sent out some time next week. They'd completely ignored both her _and _Jude when they'd vehemently protested to a church wedding, and Father McKenzie. If she ever had to see that man again… she thought she'd escaped him when she'd moved to New York…

But her mother didn't care. And Mrs. Feeney didn't either—the woman was completely different when it came to wedding plans—as long as a devout Christian male married them. She thought Jude's mother would be slightly more sensible than hers—in fact, she really did love the woman. But the sensibility part she'd gotten all wrong.

Then there were those outrageous white dresses they wanted her to wear. She _hated _white. It was so plain, and dull, and completely not her color—was it even a color?—if she was to get married, she'd do it in purple. Yes, definitely purple, because it was bright and different.

"Lucy, Love, come here." Mrs. Feeney beckoned her over to the kitchen table, where various invitations had been spread out. "Now, how do these look to you?"

White. And Lacy. She hated lace almost as much as she hated white. But how do you break that to your future mother-in-law?

Luckily Jude came in, a smudge of charcoal on his nose and his hands black and stained, and rescued her.

"Mum, we don't need invitations." He said, stretching his arms in the air and heading over to the sink.

"Of course you do, Jude. Don't be ridiculous."

"Actually, Mrs. Feeney…" Lucy said tentatively, over the running water.

Mrs. Feeney gave her a disappointed look. "Surely you, Lucy, I thought, since you're the bride… You'd want a nice wedding…"

"It's not… It's just…"

"But if you don't want them I suppose that's fine…" She put the lacy white invitations away.

"Good." Lucy said stubbornly. "I'm glad we've reached an agreement."

The older woman only looked slightly surprised.

"Jude," Lucy turned to her lover, who was busy trying to get the charcoal off his hands. "I'm going to Sadie's."

"D'you want me to come?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm sure you have work…"

"It's Saturday, Lucy."

"Oh. Well, alright." She really had to forcer herself to say those words at the moment. "Mrs. Feeney, do you…?"

"No no, dear, I'll just stay here."

"Ok then." Jude said cheerfully, wiping his hands and completely unaware of what was going on. "Let's go."

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they were out. She grabbed his hand and examined his fingertips closely. There was still a little bit of black left, but she forgave him and let it go, but he caught hers again.

"Is there a particular reason you want to go to Sadie's?"

"Maybe. Just haven't been by there in a while, you know?" It was true. It had been at least a month since they'd been there for more than ten minutes, what with the Carrigan's visit and then Mrs. Feeney's. Lucy missed the place, and she'd been locked up in their apartment for far too long. Oh, who was she kidding? She was about to crack from that apartment. She'd thought it was nice, when it was just her and Jude by themselves—but those visits had driven her crazy. If she ever became a parent, she vowed, she would never do that to her children. "Actually, I'm losing my mind."

"I'm not surprised." They were at the door of the apartment. Jude still had the key—Sadie had refused to take it back when they'd moved out—and he unlocked it gently.

"Oh good."

"So what will we do?"

"Eat it up, I suppose." She muttered as they began the long trek up the stairs.

Jude smiled and pulled her along. They spent several minutes in silence before Lucy suddenly stopped climbing.

"Lucy?"

"Jude."

"What is it?"

"Max… Max can marry us."

Jude turned around and stared at her for a long time, before saying. "You really have lost your mind."

"No, no, I'm serious! Forget about a church, about a wedding, and all that crap. Let's go upstairs, and Max can marry us."

Jude raised his eyebrows and leaned on the banister. Lucy wasn't impulsive—actually, he'd never seen her do anything like that. But he liked the idea… his mother wouldn't, though. "He's not exactly good with the Bible, though, is he?"

"Jo-Jo then. Jo-Jo can marry us."

"What about your parents, and me mum?"

"We'll call them when we get upstairs."

"Lucy, they'll want to be at their own daughter's wedding."

"Fine. I'll give them five hours to drive here, then we can get married."

He grinned, and took her face in his hands. "Alright then." He kissed her, but she pulled away quickly and practically shoved him up the rest of the stairs.

There was frantic knocking on the door when Max opened it, and he stepped aside and let his sister and best friend in quickly. "Whoa there," he said, as they moved to the 'whatever room'. "What's going on?"

"Is Jo-Jo here?" Lucy demanded, slightly breathless.

"In Sadie's room. Why?"

Jude gripped him by the shoulders. "Max, will you be my best man?"

"Yeah, sure," he spluttered, "but what's going on?"

Jo-Jo and Sadie came out of the room slowly. Lucy was on the phone with her parents, arguing softly.

"Jo-Jo," Jude asked in all seriousness. "Will you marry me?"

There was a moment of silence, besides Lucy's frustrated talk in the other room.

Jude realized what that had sounded like and rephrased. "I meant me and Lucy. Will you marry us?"

Sadie and Max laughed, and Jo-Jo grinned. "Yeah, sure man. That sounded a little weird… but I thought the Carrigans were bringing a priest."

"Yeah, but we changed our minds. Can you marry us in five hours?"

There was general air of shock in the room. "What about—"

"It doesn't matter. Will you do it, Jo?"

Jo-Jo patted his friend's shoulder. "Sure. Where?"

"Here."

"Wait a minute." Sadie intervened firmly, "You wanna marry Lucy in _this _room?"

"Yeah." Jude grinned a little.

Lucy came out from the other room with a triumphant smile on her face. "They'll be here in three hours, they said. And Mrs. Feeney's on her way."

"If there's going to be a wedding here, we'd better do some cleaning." Sadie told them all quickly. "Where's Prudence?"

"I'll get her." Max went to the girl's room. There was a yelp and a smack, then Prudence and Max came out, the former with a bewildered expression on her face.

"You're serious?" Prudence demanded, shocked.

"Will you and Sadie be maids of honor?" Lucy asked softly.

"Of course." Both women said in unison. She hugged them both.

"But we'd better start cleaning… looks like we're having a wedding in here."

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Feeney, in her best dress, with a bundle in her arms, was let in.

"Jude, Lucy, please, be _reasonable."_

"Too late, Mrs. Feeney." Max said apologetically.

She sighed. "Very well then."

_Everyone _was surprised by this lack of argument.

Soon, the seven of them were dusting and brushing and vacuuming like crazy. They had barely finished when the Carrigans—all of them, this time—arrived, all dressed up and confused.

"I brought this for Lucy," Mrs. Carrigan held up a satin, bright orange dress and matching shoes. "It was the only one I could find suitable for the occasion in your closet, Dear…"

Ah well. Orange, purple, close enough. Besides, she liked that dress. "Thanks, Mom." Lucy smiled and took it from her.

"You can get dressed in my room, Luce," Sadie told her, ushering her there with Prudence and Mrs. Carrigan in tow. "There's make-up and a mirror."

Lucy showered quickly. Her hair was blow-dried and curled (Lucy couldn't figure out why Sadie had curlers, but she chose to let it be), and light make-up applied. There was a bouquet of tiger lilies in Sadie's room—they picked one and tucked it into her hair, and the rest she would carry. Then they all changed, and they were ready.

When the came out, and when to the end of the 'whatever room' Jo-Jo stood at the other end with a bible in his hands and Jude, in the same garb he'd worn that first Thanksgiving (apparently, those had been the contents of Mrs. Feeney's bundle), slightly pale and smiling, and waiting with his hands in his pockets. Max stood, in turn, behind him, not looking the least bit concerned, in jeans and a clean blue blouse. They'd moved the table out of the way to make a sort of makeshift isle, and all the armchairs and the sofa were shoved to one side of a room, where Mrs. Carrigan, Lizzy, Julia, and Mrs. Feeney, and the rest of Sadie's tenants sat, the women with their handkerchiefs, crying a little.

Mr. Carrigan walked Lucy down the 'isle' stiffly. They made it to the end, then he sat down.

Jo-Jo read a few lines and said a few words—some of which Lucy _highly _doubted were form the Bible—then turned to look at Jude in all seriousness.

"Jude, will you take Lucy to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"Yup."

"Lucy, will you take Jude to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"Sure."

"Then kiss your bride already."

And he did. It wasn't their most passionate kiss, but certainly one of their happiest.

"Alright, Judey, get off my sister already." Max said dully in the background.

He pulled away and grinned, then picked her up and swung her in circles, both of them laughing.

The guests stood and clapped, there was cheering and hugging all around. Both of them were overwhelmed with congratulations and pats on the back and sobs from the women. Jo-Jo picked up his guitar, and he and Sadie started singing, to which everyone, of course, started dancing.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

…_I am the walrus, he told us. To this day I cannot figure out what he meant, or why he said that. The next thing I knew, we were on that wild bus ride. I was so confused… I think we all were. It was the delusion of the sixties: that we could do anything, and we didn't have to understand it—combined with our naturally authority-resistant, adolescent minds, we were unstoppable. We could be happily confused, because I am he as you are he as you are me and at that time, we were all happily together. And now that I think about it, maybe that's why it was so easy to fight._

Lucy read over the page one more time, and frowned. It was a little awkward, she thought, but it would do. It was the truth, and that would always do. From their bed, Jude breathed deeply and rolled over, realized she wasn't there, and woke up.

"Lucy," he yawned, "what are you doing, Love?"

Lucy pulled the three pages she'd written out of the typewriter and set them in a folder. "Nothing, Judey." She said gently "Go back to sleep."

"Alright." And within minutes his breathing slowed and steadied. Lucy watched him lovingly—she'd thought she was happy living with him; she was absolutely ecstatic married to him. It was like a constant high that wouldn't let her down, ever, because Jude was her drug, and she was confident that he would never run out. He was always on her mind—even at five in the morning, bleary eyed, having downed three cups of coffee already, he was there.

"Jude," she whispered when she thought he was asleep. She hugged her knees to her chest and did a little spin on the rolling chair.

"Hmm?" he managed, eyes still closed.

"I love you."

He smiled and went back to sleep.

Lucy turned out the lamp and went to bed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mr. Maxwell Carrigan had many good qualities. He was a relatively decent man. He was charming, funny, and easily amused. He was good looking, intelligent enough to have gotten into Princeton (he had gotten in, which took the real work—dropping out had just been common sense). Of course, he had his faults, but he tried not to emphasize them.

Valerie A. McKenzie did.

She was new at Sadie's record company, and Max, being the charming, funny, easily amused man that he was, had tried to be nice and show her around.

Somehow, she ended up shunning him for the day.

"McKenzie…" he'd murmured upon first meeting her, "Are you related to the preacher?"

"No, I'm a Buddhist."

He took one more look at her—she had long, curly red hair and bright hazel eyes, milky, pale skin, and a few freckles here and there. She certainly didn't _look _Buddhist.

"Oh. Sorry."

"No problem. Now, can you show me where I'm supposed to work?"

"Yeah, sure."

They walked in silence, but Max couldn't help himself. She was such a pretty girl. "So, are you a music major, or what?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Yeah."

"My sister is too. I think she works with you actually. Her name is Lucy, but she just got married, so she's taking three weeks off.

"That must be nice."

He'd been kind this long. He couldn't help it—she _had _to ask. "Can I take you out to dinner, Valerie? Show you around?"

She stopped walked and turned to look at him squarely. "Mr. Carrigan, I'll have you know I've lived in New York my entire life. I'll also tell you now that I really hate people like you—see a girl and think 'Lo' and behold, a pretty, shiny, object!' because I am _not _a pretty, shiny, object, and I will _not _go out with you, and I will _not _be subject to some weirdo harassing me at a job I worked hard to earn, understand?"

Max nodded speechlessly and stopped talking.

It was like a slap in the face—of course he'd been refused before, but never with so thorough an explanation and total refusal.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Prudence held Lucy by the hair over the toilet, as the latter wretched miserably.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Prudence asked with a grin.

"Shut up, Pru." Lucy managed, before another bout of vomiting.

"You should go to the doctor, you know, just to make sure."

"What they point of that? I know what it is."

"Make sure there's nothing wrong with it."

"It's too early to tell anyways."

"Actually, since you're throwing-up…"

"Fine, fine, I'll go tomorrow."

"That's what you'll say tomorrow!"

"Who are you, my mother?"

But Prudence couldn't answer to that, because then Lucy bent down once again over the toilet and puked.

"Wait till Jude finds out…"

Lucy shook her head miserably. "That's not what I'm worried about. When Mrs. Feeney finds out, she's going to have me in bed for nine months. _Nine months, _Prudence."

"No she won't…" Prudence rolled her eyes and helped her friend wash her face with cold water.

"She will!"

"She can't do that. You have work." They got her to bed once more, and Prudence brought her some tea.

"That won't stop her…" Lucy muttered darkly after taking a sip. The warm watr made her feel a little better, but not much.

"How far d'you think you're along?"

"Can't have been too long… three, four weeks?"

"When do you have to be at work?"

"One, today. John told me there was some stuff they had to finish before coming."

"Ok… you can to the doctor between now and one."

"Can't I just get a pregnancy test?"

"What's the point in that? You didn't eat anything funky last night, did you?"

"No. Just some salad."

"Then go to the doctor."

Lucy sighed. "Fine. Here's the number." She scribbled it down sullenly on a post-it. "Go make an appointment for me."

"You suck." But Prudence took the number and went outside to the phone.

Lucy leaned back with a slight groan. How had this happened?

Well, she knew how it had happened. She just…

How would Jude react to this one? He would either be happy or confused or both. From previous experience, she guessed the last—but Mrs. Feeney was really what was nagging at her. The woman would be insufferable. Now that they were married, she was a little less of a pain—but still, it was "Lucy, careful!" or "Americans are so thin… Eat, Lucy!" or "Jude, you really ought to make sure she doesn't slip on the wood…" as if she'd ever slipped on the wood. They'd lived here for an entire three and a half months, and not _once _had she ever slipped on the wood.

She came right then, with more tea in her hand.

"Lucy, Lucy… You barely eat as it is. Why do you have to throw it all out?"

"I'm not throwing it up on purpose, Mrs. Feeney."

"Then what's wrong with you?"

"I don't know." She lied. Let the doctor confirm it first. She'd been having morning sickness for the past few days, with Prudence helping her out when it was particularly bad, but she'd kept it to herself. She'd never had to go to bed before. Mrs. Feeney, busy sewing, had been completely unaware until Prudence had gone to call the doctor.

"Lucy?" Prudence came in with the phone on her ear. "Is 10:30 good for you?"

"It's fine."

"She says it's ok." Prudence said in a dead-pan voice. "Ok. Right. See you then. Bye." She left to put the phone away and came back rubbing her temples. "Secretaries are so _annoying…_ You'd better get dressed if you're going to be there at 10:30."

"Right." Lucy grumbled. She was ready in minutes, in one of the dresses her mother had brought a while ago when she came for their wedding. Mrs. Feeney waved her off while she grabbed a purse, and she and Prudence called for a cab.

"Where are you off to, then?" the cabdriver said sullenly.

"The Rigby Medical Institute."

The drive was long and silent. By the time they got there it was exactly 10:30, and they had to rush to the second floor.

"Alright, dears." The nurse said kindly. Prudence rolled her eyes. "Which one of you needs pregnancy verification?"

Lucy smiled. "That would be me."

The nurse shook her hand. Then she sat her down and asked her a few questions.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three."

"How long have you been sexually active?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm afraid it does…"

"No it doesn't. You just want the excuse to ask her these completely insignificant questions." Prudence muttered.

"Fine. Uh… four years?"

And on went the personal and obtrusive questions. Prudence rolled her eyes and made snide comments at several of them. Lucy knew what the nurse was thinking—how had a sweet little girl like her come across someone like Prudence?

Such was the miracle of New York.

"Alright, I'm just going to have you take this test…"

"Finally!" Lucy grabbed the urine cup and disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she came back, the nurse took the cup and left.

"She's going to come back and go 'Congratulations Mrs. Feeney, you're pregnant as hell, and you're going to swell up like a balloon… have fun!'" Lucy said sarcastically. Was it really necessary to ask her all those questions just to find out if she was pregnant or not? Actually, she was almost positive she was now. She'd only come here to make sure.

"Congratulations Mrs. Feeney!" the nurse burst in with a smile, "You're…"

"Pregnant as hell and about to swell up like a balloon?"

"Oh… well… yes, I suppose. You're about two weeks along." The woman had lost some enthusiasm. "Is it… a bad thing?"

"Oh no!" Lucy smiled "Of course not! I _am _happy. I'm just impatient to know, that's all."

"Oh. Well, ok then. Congratulations!"

"Thank you…" Lucy glanced at the woman's nametag, "Linda."

"Would you like to schedule a follow-up appointment?"

"Sure."

When that was done, Lucy left the institute with a small smile on her face.

"So," Prudence grinned. "What are you going to tell him?"

"'Hey Jude, I'm pregnant.'"

Prudence's grin broadened. "That'll work out fine, I'm sure." They walked in silence for a minute. "Actually, I'm sure he'll be ecstatic."

"Of course he will."

"And Max…"

"Max will say, 'right, kid, if you get my sister hurt in any way, shape, or form, that'll be your last child.'"

"Yeah… something like that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They made it to Sadie's record company, where everybody was taking a break for lunch in Jude's art studio.

"Jude, come here." Lucy murmured pulling him up and out of the room. She brought him to a hallway and put her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm pregnant as hell and about to swell up like a balloon."

Jude stared at her in shock for a moment.

"Wow Luce… that's…" he grinned and kissed her fiercely. Then he pulled away with worry in his eyes. "How do you feel? Is that why you've been sick in the morning all week?"

"How did you know that? I locked the bathroom and everything…"

"When you throw up, you make these nasty sounds, like you're being tortured." He said apologetically.

"Oh." She colored slightly. "Well… yes, actually, it is why… Prudence helped though."

"And now?"

"I'm fine. Just a little lumpy, that's all."

He touched her abdomen lightly. "How far along?"

"Two weeks. I went to the nurse this morning."

Jude shook his head absently. "Wow…Who else knows?"

"Prudence."

"That's it?"

"Yup. And we're keeping it that way for the first few months, understood? I'm not going to stay in bed."

"You know something?"

"What?"

"This only means Mum is staying longer."

"Thank you, Jude."

They went back in, and Max grinned, though it was little different than how he usually did. A little more confused than the norm. "So what've you done to my sister, kid?"

"Max, I'm older than you."

"Yeah, but I'm so much more mature…" Max lit a cigarette and offered him one. He took it and they sat in silence for a while. Then Sadie stood.

"I think it's time to get back to work. Or get to it." She added, looking at Lucy oddly.

The younger woman blushed under scrutiny and left for her studio. The group she would be working with was a bunch of kids barely twenty… and she had to say, it was amazing, the difference of two years.

"Right. See you, Sadie." Max said lightly, getting up and out of the room, his sister in tow waving back. Prudence and Jo-Jo left, expecting Sadie to come after them, but she stayed behind for a minute.

"You know, Jude, this place smells terrible."

"That's how it always smells, Sadie…"

"Yeah, but paint fumes aren't good for babies." She mumbled, walking out. Jude looked after he incredulously.

Nonetheless, he left the windows open that night and the next day, though it smelled a little better, he decided to take Lucy out for lunch.

_I haven't forgotten about Max. I'll elaborate on his troubles a little more next chapter. I'm also trying to finish this story, so 'Thoughts' may is going to be on hiatus. _

_Mari_


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 11

_The war ravaged us all. It was like a monster that took hold of us by our throats and ripped till it felt no more. It hurt… so badly. I _needed _to express that hurt, I _needed _to act upon it. Was that so wrong?_

"Don't laugh at me!" Max snapped angrily, "You're married to my sister! I can… I can…"

"What can you do, Max?" Jude snickered.

"I…"

Jude laughed some more. Then he calmed down. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry for laughing at you Max, it's just… Ok. I'll stop!"

"Good."

"Well, if she doesn't like you, just don't talk to her."

"But I like _her._"

"Max, you can't sleep with every wom—"

"I didn't mean it that way! I like her like I like Lucy."

"As a sister? And you're angry that she won't be your _sister?_"

"No, I'm just angry that she flat out refuses to get to know me."

"Liar. Your ego is wounded."

"Yes! It is! And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that!"

"Fine then. Be nice to her, and apologize—"

"For _what?_"

"Your behavior."

"Jude."

"What?"

"You're a terrible councilor."

"I try man, I try."

"Where's Lucy, anyways?"

"In Sadie's room, with her and Prudence."

"Damn… Do you _always _know where she is?"

"Yes… she always knows where I am, too."

"What are you, each other's stalkers?"

Jude rolled his eyes and got up for the kitchen. Max was annoying when he was bothered about something. He wanted to meet this Valerie McKenzie. She must be a very intelligent woman.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As it so happens, the next day at work, Lucy met her.

"Hi there." She said with a wave. "I heard you were new. Valerie, am I right?"

Valerie nodded, smiling slightly.

"I'm Lucy Carrigan." She paused, as though something were wrong.  
"Feeney. I meant Feeney. Sorry, just got it changed three months ago."

Carrigan… that sounded familiar. Actually, it sounded _really _familiar… she wouldn't ask questions. Besides, she liked this Lucy. "Marriage?"

"Yup."

"Congratulations."

"Come on," she told her. It was lunch, and Valerie had been prepared to go out and eat by herself as usual. "Eat with me. You must be bored, all by your lonesome."

Valerie snorted. "A little. Where do you work?"

"Recording."

"Ah… that must be interesting."

"Sometimes… sometimes the musicians are just ass—butt-holes, though."

When was the last time she'd heard the word butt-hole? A long, long time.

"I'm trying to watch my tongue." The other woman explained sheepishly. "I've spent way too much time with my brother lately."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. My sister's awful." They had reached the art studios. Lucy pushed the door open to one of them, where several people were assembled. There was a woman with long curly hair, and a short Asian one, and three men…

And one of them was the one who'd shown her to her office… the one who'd tried to ask her out their first five minutes of acquaintance… what was his name? He kind of looked like Lucy, too, now that she thought about it.

Carrigan.

"Everyone, this is Valerie." Lucy said grandly. Valerie blushed under the scrutiny.

"This is Sadie," Lucy went on, and looked at the curly haired lady. Valerie stiffened lightly at seeing her boss. "Hi, Ms. Edison…" she murmured softly.

"Psh. I'm Sadie here, kid. Besides, I never was one for formality."

"And this is Prudence." Lucy continued, pointing to the Asian woman. Prudence smiled and waved; Valerie returned the gesture.

"Jo-Jo," Lucy nodded towards a tall, African American man with a guitar in his hands. He looked up. "Hello, Valerie."

"Jude," Lucy pulled the man towards her slightly and made him and Valerie shake hands. By the way he looked at her, Valerie figured he was Lucy's husband.

"And my brother, Max. The one with the potty-mouth."

"Ah… we've already met." Max said a little timidly. She hadn't thought it was possible for him to be timid.

"Oh. Well, you'll get to know each other a little better, then."

They sat down cross-legged on the ground for lunch. Valerie didn't talk much; Lucy bantered with her husband and brother back and forth, laughing occasionally, but always with a smile on her face. Prudence joined in occasionally, as did Sadie and Jo-Jo.

Max turned to look at her suddenly, and Valerie stiffened.

"So, how's work so far?" he asked her politely.

"Fine." She said awkwardly. "It's… really great. That's why I took the job." She added.

"Oh… Err… did you find everything alright?"

"Yup."

"Neat."

"Yeah."

Awkward silence between them.

"Listen, sorry about the other day…" he began worriedly.

Valerie crimsoned and shook her head. "No, its fine. I'm a little paranoid, that's all. Not your fault."

"No, I was really…"

"Forward?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"No, its fine, really. I overreacted."

"So we're good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

"So how long've you been in the business?"

"Four years, almost." She reflected on this with a little amazement. "You?"

"Two."

"Oh. I'd have thought a little longer."

"Well, I helped Sadie start the company… she was my landlady. Wait. She still is."

"Does she still rent out apartments?" She was getting a little tired of her sister's place, and she'd been meaning to move out…

"Actually, she rents a room, in a penthouse."

"Oh."

"But if you don't mind sharing a house, I think there's one room still left. Prudence doesn't live there anymore, neither do Lucy and Jude."

"Why'd they move out?"

"No mirror in the bathroom, parents coming to visit...And, you know, in the throws of young love…"

Valerie snorted, briefly glancing at the couple, who were now talking in hushed voices in the corner of the room.

"They've been like that all month now." Max shook his head, "No idea why."

"Maybe she's pregnant." Valerie threw in mindlessly.

A look of shock passed over Max's feature, then a look of awe. "How… I haven't been able to figure it out for a month now, and you…"

"I was just putting it out there!" she said hastily. "I didn't mean it. Maybe you should just ask her."

"Are you kidding? You don't _ask _Lucy questions like that. She either tells you, or she doesn't. If she doesn't, and you ask, she shoots you alive."

"Oh." Valerie grinned. "Then ask Jude."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jude?" Max muttered, taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Yes…" Jude didn't even look at his brother-in-law. He was in the midst of sketching yet another apple.

"Are you having a baby?"

"What…"

"I mean, you and Lucy. Is Lucy… you know..." He looked wearily towards the couple's bedroom. His sister was sound asleep.

"_Pregnant?" _He whispered.

Jude's eyes widened. "How did _you _find out?"

"I guessed." He lied. "She's been eating a lot of ice cream lately."

"Wow."

"So she is?"

"Yes."

"Holy… you _didn't._"

"Max, stop being obscene."

Max rolled his eyes. "You're too well brought up, little British boy."

Jude smacked him upside the head, just as his mother came in with a few grocery bags.

"Hi, Mrs. Feeney." Max said nicely.

"Hello, Maxwell… Jude, have you seen Lucy?"

"Asleep."

"It's nearly twelve... She's been sleeping a lot. And I hate to say it, dear, but your wife's been putting on some weight. She was so slim…"

"Well," Max said defensively, "She's preg—"

"Pragmatic!" Jude said quickly over his friend, giving him dirty looks.

Max, ever so slightly dense, "A little, but she's also pre—"

"Pretty!"

"Jude," Mrs. Feeney said firmly, "I didn't mean anything when I mentioned her weight. She looks a little healthier now, that's all. She's still very pretty and pragmatic."

"No," Max said a little irritably, "she's pregnant, damn it."

"Maxwell, you know I don't like it when you swear in this house." Mrs. Feeney scolded.

"Sorry, Mrs. Feeney."

"And—what did you say, exactly, Love?" her eyes widened a little. Jude's head slipped onto his charcoal drawing. Lucy would kill him.

XXXXXXXX

"Lucy!" Lucy's eyelids fluttered open, and then closed again. Good Lord, she did _not _want to wake up. That child was making her feel once more, and if she got up, she was almost positive she'd start throwing up.

"Lucy, Love!" Mrs. Feeney squealed excitedly. "Oh, congratulations! Why didn't you tell me? I'm so glad! I _must _extend my visit!"

She would kill him. She would take Jude by the throat and shove his face in the toilet and make sure he drowned in her own vomit before she let him out again…

No, of course she wouldn't. She _would_ make him sleep on the couch though.

"Mrs. Feeney, that's very kind of you, but—"

"It's nothing at all dear, nothing at all."

"Mrs. Feeney, please—"

"Mum," Jude said mercifully from the doorway, "I need help in the kitchen."

Lucy shot him a sleepy glare and turned her face away from both Feeneys.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her fourth week at Strawberry Jamz, Max offered to drive her home, since she usually walked—and as it was pouring, and she had forgotten her umbrella, she couldn't really say no. Lucy was sick that day, so she and Jude had stayed home, or else it would have been a tight fit in the small blue vehicle.

"Thanks again for the ride." She mumbled awkwardly.

"No problem."

They sat in silence for a while, till Max got to a red light.

"So… did you ask?" she inquired sheepishly.

He grinned. "Yup."

"Well?"

He pressed the gas pedal, that grin still plastered on his face, "Hold your horses, Miss McKenzie. I never said I'd tell you."

"That's not fair!" she said indignantly. "I'm the one who _suggested _you ask Jude. I'm the one who suggested pregnancy to begin with!"

"Which is why I'm going to tell you anyways."

Mollified, Valerie leaned back against her chair once again. "You'd better."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Come on!"

"Fine!" he laughed at her obvious suspense. "She's pregnant."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Ha!"

"Yeah, fine. Be that way."

"I will."

"You are."

"So what?"

"Nothing at all, Miss McKenzie."

"Mr. Carrigan."

"This your street?" he gestured to a turn in the corner.

"Yes, that's it."

"Very well, Miss McKenzie." He said in a faked-up version of Jude's Liverpool accent.

"Mr. Carrigan, please stop at the stop-signs."

"There was no one there, McKenzie."

"There could've been." She retorted

"In which case I would've stopped. Which I'm going to do now, because I believe this is where you get off?"

"Yeah…" she said, all awkwardness again.

"See you then."

"See you, Carrigan."

"McKenzie."

"Maxwell."

"Valerie."

"Won't your sister wonder what's going on?"

"Oh, duh, of course… Bye then." She opened the door and got out slowly. When she was out, she was instantly plummeted by the water bullets of New York's grey sky. She ran to the apartment door, and as she did, she heard Max call out "Can I drive you back tomorrow?"

"I won't be raining!" she shouted back, having stopped halfway there.

"It doesn't matter!"

"Ok!" she smiled and ran to the building, hurrying to unlock it. She shut the door and leaned against it panting and wet. Then she began the climb up the stairs to her sister's apartment.

Anna was sitting in a rocking chair in the nursery, feeding her baby, Heath.

"You didn't walk home, did you?" Anna murmured, swaying the child a little.

"No, a friend drove me home."

"Who?"

"A friend."

"That answers loads of questions, Ria."

"Well, that's how it is."

"Was it a guy? Is that why you won't tell me? Do you like him?"

Valerie turned a bright shade of red. Not because it was true, but because of her sister's too-quick assumptions.

"It was a guy. But that's why I won't tell you. It's because I know you'll pick and bother me about him till I don't want to see him anymore. 'Night, Ann." She said abruptly, exited from the door and headed towards her room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lucy stood over the toilet once again, this time with Valerie holding a wet towel at the ready.

"You'd think it would have stopped by now…" Lucy muttered.

"It'll happen occasionally. That's what happened to my sister, Anna."

"I'm really sorry about this…"

"It's fine."

"I will show you the place down stairs though, just as soon as this passes."

"I know you will. Here," Valerie gave her the towel, and Lucy wiped her mouth delicately. She looked down her belly was getting bigger every day, and the nurses and doctors had said her baby was healthy.

"Right. Let's go then." Lucy said firmly, "Before I start up again."

They traveled the short distance to the next floor down, and Lucy showed her friend the empty apartment.

"It's not to big, I know…"

"It's perfect," Valerie said a little breathlessly, from the excitement. "Besides, I don't think I could live in Sadie's flat. It's a little crowded."

"I know. That's another reason why we moved out."

"And the rent's not too bad, either…"

Lucy nodded happily.

"When can I see the landlord."

Lucy took a post-it out of her purse and scribble something on it. "Here's his phone number." She told the other woman, handing her the paper.

"Thanks, Lucy."

"No problem. So how's Max been?"

"Max? What do you mean? What about Max?" Lucy could tell the woman was panicking. She inwardly smirked.

"He's not being his usual pain-in-the-behind self, is he?" Always trying to watch her tongue. She knew it wouldn't do too much good for children if she was always swearing around hers.

"No, not at all!"

"Oh?"

"I mean… no. Really. He's been very nice."

"Oh. Ok. Well… that's… very… _different, _for Max, if you know what I mean." Lucy had also noticed that Lily had been his last girl before Valerie, and he hadn't had one since. And how long had it been? Nearly Four months now? Jude had to be right. Max _had _lost his mind.

"Is it?"

"It is."

"Ah."

"But don't let it bother you. I'm sure it's for the better." _Just as long as he doesn't sing under her balcony._

"Ok."

They went upstairs again, and Valerie smiled and hugged her new friend. "Thanks for your help, Lu. I should probably go—Anna will wonder where I went to…"

"We could call her, if you like…"

"No! No, it's fine. I have to pick up a few groceries for her too."

"Oh, alright then. Come by any time."

Valerie smiled and nodded. "Bye then."

She left without further ado. She ran down the satirs excitedly, and ran full blast into Max.

"Ah!" he stopped her by the shoulders. "Whoa there, crazy lady."

She grinned. "Yeah yeah."

"So, d'you like the apartment?"

"I do, very much!" she said ecstatically. "Thank you for telling me about it, by the way."

"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't be all that comfortable at Sadie's."

She blushed a little. "Its not that, its just—"

"No, really, I've been thinking of getting out myself… I love Sadie and Jo and Pru, but I need to find my place sometime, you know?"

"Yes, I do." She murmured again, her cheeks reddening even more. "I should go. Anna…"

"I'll drive you." He told her, not bothering to ask and starting down the stairs.

"Um… Ok." She said a little dazedly, following him down. "But weren't you going to go see Lucy?"

"Its ok. She can wait."

"If you say so, Carrigan."

"I do, McKenzie."

"Thank you."

"Any time. You know," he said casually, opening the door for her, "if your sister says its fine, I can take you out for lunch…"

Valerie stopped halfway out the door. "I don't think so."

"Oh." His face fell a little. "Well, ok then."

"Listen, Max…"

"No, if you don't want to, it's really ok."

"It's not that I don't like you, honestly."

"Right."

"I just… haven't been out in a while."

"That's fine."

They walked to the car in silence, Valerie with her head down and her cheeks aflame.

"Max." she said quietly. "I really do appreciate everything you've done for me."

He was still quiet, driving absently, she thought. She didn't know what he would say, and she was really worried when she got out and he still wouldn't say anything.

He was about to drive away, but she opened the door again and briefly went in to peck him on his clean-shaven cheek. "Bye, Carrigan."

"Bye, McKenzie." He smiled slightly, which reassured her the slightest bit, she supposed. But his expression still bothered her.

She left anyways, walking slowly to her apartment door. He didn't drive away till she was safely inside, and even then he did it slowly.

"Valerie, I think the baby's sick. I'm going to take him to the doctor's, ok?"

"Yeah, go ahead. D'you need me to do anything?"

"No. Did you find an apartment?"

"Yeah. It's not too far from here, actually. About seven blocks."

"Oh, that's good." They stood awkwardly for a while. Then Anna took off with her baby for the doctor's.

Valerie stood there for a long time. She knew what she wanted—a friend, a certain friend she'd hurt today—she just didn't know if she should go get it.

Finally, she went to the phone and dialed Max's number, which she had gotten a while ago.

"Hello?" a raspy singer's voice said. It was Sadie, of course.

"Hi Sadie. It's Valerie." She sounded superficial even to herself.

"Hey there, Valerie. Hang on, I'll go get Max for you." There was a sharp call for the guy, and in a minute, he was taking the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Max." she said softly.

"Valerie? What is it? Are you alright?" Why did he worry so much anyways? The only person he fretted like this about was Lucy, and the other woman was pregnant.

"I'm fine. I'm just very… I got hungry, just now. And there's no food."

She could hear the smile on his end of the line. "Gimme a minute, I'll be there."

"Thank you."


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

He picked her up, for the second time in about fifteen minutes that day, and they had some hot dogs and ice cream in the park. Max was in pure bliss—he was mesmerized by everything about her—her dark red hair, hazel eyes, the way she laughed, the way she smiled… He'd lied when he'd said to Jude that he only liked her as a sister. _No surprise there_, he thought sarcastically. Only, he'd never really met someone as shy as Valerie, who suddenly opened up when he'd bothered her a little. Most girls had been pretty open from the start, which was nice he supposed, but there was no sense of accomplishment.

"I always thought you'd like chocolate ice cream." He told her as they walked.

"It's a little too heavy."

"Strawberry has more calories."

"Are you calling me fat?" she said with mock indignity. That was laughable—She wasn't stick thin, but she certainly wasn't fat.

"You've gotten a little plump, dear…" he returned.

"Well, you're not exactly what you used to be either, are you, Carrigan?"

"I'm a man. I _need _to eat."

"And woman don't?"

"Not _real _women." She punched him in the shoulder. He rubbed it a little, "I was joking you know."

"I know."

"So why'd you hit me?" he demanded.

"Because it seemed like fun." She grinned and patted the spot she'd abused. "You have no fat on you whatsoever, and I was wondering whether muscle could bounce."

"Hope you're happy."

"I'm _always _happy."

"You sick, demented freak…"

"_I'm _not the one who flirts with everything on legs."

"So wha—hey, how do you know that?"

"Lucy." She said simply.

"I haven't done it in a while…" he replied sheepishly.

"Since when? Five minutes?"

"Since… Since you came, actually." He said thoughtfully.

She glared at him. "Oh there you go, had to ruin it with some stupid romantic comment, didn't you?"

"What? What'd I do wrong?" He asked, bewildered.

"_Stop trying to hit on me." _She snapped.

"I wasn't!"

"You were going to!"

He didn't answer that.

"See? Good Lord—"

"I thought you were a Buddhist."

"Which is exactly why I'm saying that." She retorted. "Now shut up and eat."

"What are you, my grandmother?"

"No, just pissed. _Eat."_

"Fine, fine." He said grudgingly. He took a bite of the ice cream cone sullenly and in silence.

"Valerie, how old are you?"

She looked at him oddly. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"Twenty-two."

"Wow. You're even younger than Lucy."

"And how old are you? You certainly _act _like a ten-year-old."

He grinned fondly, "In my heart, I am."

"And in reality?" she prodded.

"Twenty-six, almost."

"Ew."

"What?"

"Child molester."

He raised an eyebrow. "Who's molesting who, dearest?"

"You, me."

"_I'm _the ten-year-old."

"Good one."

"Thank you, McKenzie."

They went on like that in friendly banter, with Max occasionally trying to flirt and Valerie shooting him down. Finally, they threw their dirtied napkins in s trash bin and headed out of the park towards the car.

"Am I really that bad?" He asked her with a wary smile.

"Terrible."

"Sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cover it."

"I'm really _really _sorry, Miss McKenzie."

"No you're not."

"I am!"

"You are now that I'm mad at you."

"Fine. I'm really sorry, Valerie, ok?"

She gave him a very serious look, one that sent little tingles up his spine. "If you try to hit on me _one more time—_"

"Which I won't—"

"I won't talk to you for a week."

"You couldn't."

"Try me."

"No, I won't. I won't hit on you, either."

"Good. I'm glad we've come to an agreement."

He pressed on the gas petal and they moved forward in stiff, mocking silence.

"So do you want me to drop you off at home?"

"Honest answer?"

"Duh."

"No, not really. Practical answer? Yeah, go ahead."

"We could go to Café Huh? for Sadie's gig."

"No, I can't. Anna will get suspicious. She's already been bothering me about you driving me home…"

"What's wrong with me driving you home?" he said suspiciously, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Nothing at all. Only Anna would then go on to steal your phone number, call you, and you and I would have to sit through dinner with the Wilson family."

"Is that bad?" Wow. He'd really never met anyone like her. One minute she was shy and elusive, the next, she was being extremely blunt. He liked that.

"Yes, Maxwell, it's very bad." She said patiently, as though speaking to an idiot.

"Why is that then, Miss McKenzie?"

"Because then she would make pointed comments about you being the most handsome young man she's ever seen her sister with, and then she'd ask you to watch Heath, and then she'd say how good you are with kids… next thing you know, she's got you doing all sorts of work and errands for her."

"Ah."

"She's done it before. Honestly."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you… Wait," he asked seriously, "how many men have you had over?"

She smirked, "How many girls have you been with in one week, Max?"

"But that's not the same…"

"No, it's not, because _I _have considerably more self control, if you please."

"So how many?"

"Since high school? Six or seven."

"Oh. Do you… you know… still have one?"

"No." she said simply. "I dumped the last one because he was too clingy."

"Ouch. What if _I_ stuck to you like glue?"

"I couldn't dump you, could I?" she returned blandly, "Because you're not my boyfriend."

"I'm your friend, right?" He stopped at the red light that marked their nearing her house.

"Yes." She said assuredly. She really didn't want to go home… the night was getting so pretty. It was nearly seven (how had they taken so long for lunch again?) and the sky was beginning to turn pink. She'd have to find something to eat for dinner soon enough… she wasn't all that hungry though.

He stopped in front of her apartment. "Can't wait for you to move." He muttered.

"Me too. I hate living with my sister."

"When are you calling the owner?"

"Tomorrow morning, promptly."

"Right. Good night, my dear Miss McKenzie." He said formally.

"Mr. Carrigan." She said just as stiffly. Then she laughed, kissed him on the cheek, and left.

Anna had gone to sleep—she did that a lot now, with the baby always crying. Dave wasn't home yet, either. She looked down on the street from the window, and saw that Max's car was still there. He looked up and waved to her, she did the same, and then finally (and slightly to her disappointment), he drove away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_My mother-in-law is a British fiend._

Lucy stood over the sink, listening to endless babble about children and raising them and caring for them… what happened to the days when Mrs. Feeney was a sweet, understanding old woman? Where had that lady gone? She had once appreciated her company. Now it seemed as though the elderly woman was the last person in the world she wanted to see. And she seemed to be stuck to Jude—she got worried every time he left her eyesight for more than a few minutes—then she'd slap herself mentally and tell herself to stop it, and it would get a little better.

She washed the dishes in a lazy, bored manner. When was Jude coming home? She'd told him to go to the pharmacy and get her some ice cream and orange soda, but he'd been gone for…

Oh. Only five minutes.

Well, how long could it possibly take to get ice cream and soda?!

A dish dropped and crashed on the ground. Mrs. Feeney exclaimed over the mess and clumsy pregnant women and told her to sit down, she'd take care of it. After ten more minutes of Lucy staring at her mother-in-law's knitting, she realized it was a sweater.

Baby clothes! Eight months pregnant and she hadn't realized that… How had that happened? Where was Jude? What about the baby's room? How long would that take to make?

The baby would be sleeping with them for the first year, she realized in a rare moment of sanity.

And then what?

_Think about that in a year and a month_. The reasonable part told her.

Fine, fine. No panicking.

Five more minutes passed, still no Jude. Twenty whole minutes at the pharmacy buying ice cream and soda… what if he'd gotten run over?

Then, of course, the door opened, and Jude came in with a plastic bag.

"Jude!" she said in relief.

"What is it? What happened?"

"Nothing, nothing… I missed you." She said shyly.

"I've been gone for twenty minutes, Love…" he chuckled and kissed her firmly.

"I know…" she sighed. She rubbed her belly absently and stared at him as he out the ice cream in the freezer and gave her a bottle of soda. She drank half of it in one gulp—Jude stared at her oddly.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I was thirsty."

"Women…" she heard him mutter.

"Judey," she stood and hugged him. "I still love you, even though you've landed me in this mess and I should really kill you for it."

"Oh…Ok…" He hugged her back a little hesitantly.

"I just thought you should know."

"Alright."

"What, you don't love me anymore?"

"Of course I do, Lucy—"

"Is it because I'm fat now?" She whispered fiercely. "You only liked me because I was pretty!"

"You still are, Love—"

"Don't call me 'Love' when you don't love me anymore!" she said angrily, "Don't lie to me!"

"Lucy, I really do love you—"

"But it's because I'm fat and pregnant that you can't stay with me, isn't it?"

"No, not at all—"

"Stop lying to me!" she wailed, and ran off to their room to slam the door shut.

Jude looked after her, bewildered. Mrs. Feeney laughed a little, before managing, "She'll get over it pretty fast, dear. Look."

Lucy had opened the door slowly yet again, and came running back into his arms.

"I'm sorry! That was stupid! I didn't mean any of it!" she was crying fiercely into his shoulder—he patted her back awkwardly, having no idea what was going on.

"Let's get out a bit, alright, Love?" he murmured after she'd calmed down.

"Yes, ok." She sniffed. "I'll get my sweater."

"No, I'll get it for you," he told her, running into the room and out again with said sweater.

She put it on quickly, and soon they were out, walking hand in hand.

"I really am sorry about that…"

"Truth be told, I had no idea what you were talking about, so it's really fine." He kissed her knuckle with a small grin.

"Oh. Well… I don't know."

"I've been thinking, Lucy…"

"What about?"

"What are we calling the baby?"

She paused. "I don't know. I never considered it."

"I thought Rose was a pretty name for a girl."

"I like it." She murmured, and they started walking again. "And for a boy?"

"Er… Henry?"

"No." she said firmly.

"I thought so. Johnny?"

"_No." _

"Oh. Right. Edgar Allan?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Imagine spending your life as _Edgar Allan." _She said sarcastically. "Named after some drunk old poet…"

"Fine, fine, you think of something." He tried politely.

"George."

Jude considered it for a while. "Ok. George for a boy, Rose for a girl."

Lucy smiled and squeezed his hand. "It's really coming, isn't it?"

"It is." Jude said blissfully. Or, she thought so, until she looked at him and she noticed he wasn't really smiling. It was a sort of worried, dazed smile that was new to Jude's features.

"What's wrong?" she asked nervously.

"What if I hurt it?" he confessed.

"You won't."

"But what if I do?"

"Then we'll just fix it and move on, like we always have." She reassured him.

"But what if…"

"Jude, it'll be fine."

"What if it hates me? What if I'm a terrible father?"

"You won't be."

"How do you know?"

Lucy sighed. "I don't—not really. But I love you, so I'm positive anyways."

"And you'll still love me?"

"Of course I will—what's wrong with you? Are you sick?" she put her palm on his forehead worriedly, which he pushed away gently but firmly.

"Nothing's wrong, Lucy. Let's go home."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jude?" he heard in the middle of the night, about a month later.

"What is it, Love?" he murmured incoherently, rolling over to look at her.

"I… I need to go to the hospital."

"You…" he shot up and out of bed like a bullet. "Holy crap… Oh God… Where's Max? I'll call him… you stay put, I'll get you to the hospital if I have to carry you… Mum!" he shouted. About five minutes later, Mrs. Feeney appeared. She turned on the lights, took one look at Lucy's sweating face and pained expression, and shooed her son out to call his brother-in-law.

Jude dialed the number at lightning speed. It was about three in the morning, so Max should still be up…

"Hello?" Sadie answered sleepily.

"Lucy's in labor." Jude rasped.

"I'll wake Max up and we'll meet you at the hospital in the other car, alright?" Sadie spoke firmly, suddenly awake. Lucy gave a small shriek in the background.

"Yeah, but tell him to hurry!"

"You bet."

In another five minutes, Max burst into the apartment frantically, a panicked expression on his face. "What's going on? How is she? Can she walk?"

Somehow, they managed to get Lucy downstairs and into the taxi. And as the they took her down, Jude got uneasier and uneasier…

The baby really was coming, wasn't it?

No time to ask the obvious.

But he couldn't shake the doubt from his mind. All the what if's and maybe's that plagued him…

"Jude, get in the car, man!"

"Right, sorry." Jude hopped in, and they drove off quickly.

"How are you doing, Luce?" Max asked, ignoring a stop sign. It didn't matter too much, since it was so late.

"I…I think I'm… I'm…Ok!" she managed to gasp. "Max, my water just broke."

"Oh shit…" he stepped harder on the gas, passing through a red light after red light. It was a matter of minutes before Lucy was panting heavily and screaming occasionally. Mrs. Feeney rubbed her back soothingly, murmuring words of comfort, but it wasn't much help.

And Jude… he felt so terrible, he couldn't say anything. Poor Lucy, having to live with him, poor baby, having him as a father, poor Max, knowing him…

Lucy screamed, the loudest she'd done, as they parked in the hospital lot and took her to emergency.

"Jude," she managed, "Jude…"

"It's alright, Love, we're getting you there." He choked, as the doctors and nurses took her away to the delivery room on a rolling bed.

He couldn't go after them, because Mrs. Feeney was going, and Max was holding him back, so it was impossible…

"Come on man, nothing we can do now." His friend said comfortingly. "We'd better go to the waiting room."

"Yeah…" he replied absently. Lucy would hate him after this, and the baby would too. He would hurt it, somehow, he would mess up, he was sure he would…

"Jude." His brother-in-law told him again. "We'd better call Mom and Dad."

"You go ahead." He whispered. "I'll just wait here." What if they ran out of money? What if they couldn't keep it?

"It's a hallway."

"I'll come. Go call the Carrigans."

"Ok…"

Jude leaned against the frigid white wall in agony. He could hear Lucy's screams from the room ahead, but he didn't dare go in.

He needed to take a walk. He would take a walk, and then it would all be fine.

He stepped outside, and immediately, the air felt so much better. A _long _walk… Lucy would be in there for a long time, and then she would come out hating him, with a baby that hated him too.

XXXX

Somehow, he ended up by the docks.

It was dark and empty, but he could make out the edge of the wood and where the water began. He plopped himself down and looked at the water's eerie, shiny bottom.

He should leave them. He should leave Lucy, who would hate him, and the baby, too. She would be so much happier without him.

He sat there for a while, becoming more and more convinced that it was the best idea.

And then… there was that charcoal sketch of Lucy he'd done so long ago… had it survived all those years? It nowhere near captured her beauty. Even pregnant, she had been radiant, and that picture was so… bland… But her eyes were right. At least he'd managed that.

What if he wasn't a bad father? Would he be a lousy one just running off like that because of his fear?

Of course he would. And then the baby would be sure to hate him. After all, it wasn't guaranteed right now.

He looked at the water once again.

"Disgusting." He murmured, not sure who he was referring to. Then he got up and went to a lighter place…

Nearly two hours had passed. Max would kill him.

XXXX

Max was frantic. Where was his stupid, stupid, _stupid _brother-in-law? He would kill his best friend once he got his hands on him. Sadie, Jo-Jo, and Prudence had come, and he'd called Valerie, who'd come surprisingly fast, having had to get a taxi at this time of night. She was following his pacing steps and trying to calm him down, but after a half hour of this, she had given up and sat down.

"Where the Hell is he?" he asked for the billionth time. Valerie rubbed her temples irritably.

"I'm sure he'll show up, if you just _sit down—_"

"What does my sitting down have anything to do with Jude's coming and going?" he demanded.

"Absolutely nothing—it just saves a good bit of my sanity. _Sit. Now._"

Max plopped down beside her for a record time of two seconds, before he got up and started pacing once more.

"What's he doing? What's wrong with him?"

"Max! Stop panicking!"

"I'm going to kill him…" he muttered evilly, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair.

Another hour of agony. And another… and then there was Jude, panting like crazy, bursting through the waiting room door.

"What happened? Is she ok? Has the baby…?"

"Where've you been, you idiot?"

"Nowhere, man." He managed. "How is she?"

"Don't know. Haven't heard from her, or you, or anyone, for that matter."

"Where's Sadie?"

"Went to get something to eat with Pru and Jo-Jo."

And soon, Valerie McKenzie found herself facing not one, but _two _frantic, pacing men. Her eyes were beginning to hurt from trying to follow the both of them at the same time.

"Will you sit down already!" she snapped eventually, when she was dizzy from the task.

They sat down in unison, and got up in unison a second later.

She would have laughed if it were any other day.

Sadie, Prudence, and Jo-Jo came in with a few sandwiches, drinks, and cookies. They sat down around Valerie, handing her a sandwich, and the four of them began to eat. Max, unable to resist food, eventually consented to eating his sandwich while pacing, and Jude wouldn't touch anything.

"Come on, Jude," Prudence said weakly. There were shadows under her eyes and her whole appearance drooped. "Have a cookie."

"No thanks." He muttered, still going back and forth.

Then, Lo' and behold, Mrs. Feeney burst out of the delivery room with a look of pure ecstasy on her face. "It's a girl! Rose Martha Feeney!" she blushed when she said the name.

There was an overall sigh of relief. Jude was in the room in seconds, kneeling by Lucy and kissing her hands, her cheeks, her eyes, mouth…

She smiled tiredly. "There's Rosie." She murmured, nodding towards the baby nursing peacefully at her chest. Rose's hair was dark, and so were here eyes when she opened them, but her features and face structure was too similar to her mother's for there to be any doubt whose daughter she was.

"She's beautiful." He whispered fiercely. "And you are too." And he meant it. They were both the most gorgeous creatures he had ever seen, in different ways but lovely all the same. His wife was soft, and pale, like a cloud, and his daughter was soft too, but darker, like the night sky...

He loved them both totally and unconditionally, and he couldn't help but think he'd been insane only moments ago.

XXXX

They moved Lucy to a more permanent residence than the delivery room—he was assured that his wife would be discharged in a day or two, but for the meanwhile she and Rose had better stay here. They put a second bed in the room for Jude, who would stay as long as she did.

Minutes after she was settled in her new bed, Max, Sadie, Jo-Jo, Prudence, and Mrs. Feeney trooped in and exclaimed over the child and the mother, followed by Valerie, who stood shyly in the corner till the crowd had cleared up and she could talk without being spoken over.

"How do you feel?" she asked Lucy when they were alone. Jude had gone to the bathroom, and the rest had finally gone home, with the exception of Max, who was waiting to drive her home in the cafeteria.

"Fine." Lucy replied softly. "Tired. I hate being in bed, you know?"

"I've heard, from Prudence. But you can't really get up this time, so it's perfectly reasonable."

"I know…" Lucy leaned back against her chair and pushed the food she'd been given away. She wasn't quite hungry yet, but Valerie urged her to eat anyways.

"You have to keep up energy for that baby of yours."

"That doesn't mean blowing myself up."

"True." Valerie agreed. She patted Lucy's hand and got up. "I'd better go, before your brother comes in and… how shall I put it?" she paused, "Disturbs the peace."

Lucy laughed. "Alright. Are you coming by tomorrow?"

"Of course. After work though—not all of us have children, you know, Mrs. Feeney."

"I know, I know. It's been nearly a year now and I still can't get used to that…" Lucy muttered. Then she looked up again. Jude came out of the bathroom, and Valerie was leaving.

They were just beginning.

_Whew, that was a long chapter. Hope you got through alright! Please Review!_

_Mari_


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Anna wondered, of course, where Valerie had gone. She hadn't woken anyone yet, but she was about to when suddenly her sister came through the door quietly.

"Where have you been?" her older sister demanded.

"My friend had a baby."

"Who?"

"Lucy Carrigan. I work with her."

"Oh."

"Anna, you don't have to stay up, you know. I left a note."

"I know."

"I'm twenty two."

"That's ok."

"Good Lord—I'm moving out in about two weeks—can't you stop babying me for just a _minute?_ You have your _own _kid!"

"Valerie, what's wrong? You've been so moody, lately."

Of course she was moody. She was so close to being out of her sister's house. _Two more weeks, _she told herself calmly, _two more weeks and you're out of here._

"I'm sorry." She said, ducking her head. "I'm going to bed. 'Night, Anna."

"Goodnight."

Valerie marched to her room and closed the door with a determined click, then she went to the window. Max was, of course, still there—he always stayed until she made some sign that she was up and ok. She flicked the light on, and he drove off.

They'd done this for a long time now—nearly nine months, since Valerie had come.

She changed quickly and crawled into bed. This was quite a night—baby Rose was the most adorable creature in the world—while most babies came out wrinkly and red, she'd come out smooth and pink. She really would be a heartbreaker when she grew up.

She was slightly flattered that Max had called her up in the middle of the night to tell her Lucy was in labor. Did she mean that much to the siblings? They certainly meant a lot to her, and she was glad the feeling was reciprocated.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Valerie," Max came into her office a few days after Rose and shut the door.

She looked up, a little surprised. He rarely bothered her at work—not since she'd kicked him out the first time. "What is it?"

"Package for you." He tossed her a medium-sized brown box.

"And you found it necessary to remove yourself from work and deliver it yourself?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Absolutely."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Ok. Thanks then, Max." she put the package on her desk somewhere and went back to work, knowing he would tell her what was going on if she ignored him.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

"I don't see why I should."

"Valerie. Open the damn thing."

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

"It's not some sort of nuclear bomb, is it?"

He rolled his eyes and leaned back against wall.

"Ok, wise guy." She muttered. She ripped the package open and stared t what was inside it.

It was the most adorable thing—and yellow, old-fashioned telephone—the kind with the turning dial and everything.

"Does it actually work?" she asked excitedly, grinning.

"Of course it works. Why would I give it to you if it didn't work?"

"Thank you, Max!" she put it on her desk carefully and jumped up to give him a fierce hug.  
"It's a moving in present," he told her, hugging her back.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Then her arms dropped. "You really shouldn't have."

"Don't be ridiculous, McKenzie. It's a moving-out gift."

Her cheeks were really red, which he thought was cute. "Ok." She mumbled.

"These are from Jude and Lucy, by the way." He put another box on her desk, but she didn't want to open it just now. She liked being in his arms.

Ack, that sounded terribly cliché.

"Max," she whispered. "You have to get out of my office."

"Why?" he whispered back.

"Because its too small for two people. And I'm fat, remember?"

"I always liked big women…"

She pulled away and pointed mutely to the door. He pouted.

"Out. Now." She ordered.

"Yes, Mommy." He went and shut the door. Valerie instantly noticed how much emptier the place was without him.

Ah well. In a week, she would take that phone out of her office and bring it home. She opened the box from Lucy and Jude, and found a set of hand-painted hangers—probably done by Jude. They were beautiful, and, of course, psychedelic. Lucy had also enclosed a note and picture of Rose.

She smiled. She was sure she would be spending a lot of time with that kid in the future, and she was looking forward to it.

And Max, of course.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Valerie stood in her new, empty apartment. It was full of boxes—various trinkets and articles of furniture her parents and sister had enclosed. Lucy was sitting cross-legged on the ground, nursing her baby, and Max and Jude were bringing the last two boxes in.

"I think that's it." Jude told her, sitting down next to Lucy and kissing his wife on the side of her head.

Max stretched and Valerie went over to rub his shoulders. He sighed in relief. She had hired some movers, but they'd left the two heaviest boxes at the foot of her apartment building, and Jude and Max had been kind enough to carry them up the stairs.

"So, how are you going to sleep in this mess?" the latter asked her.

"There's a mattress in the bedroom, and I'll start cleaning tomorrow."

"That's right—it's Saturday, isn't it?" Jude said absently.

Valerie nodded and looked over at Lucy, who looked as if she were about to drop into sleep right there and then.

"I think you two had better go," she said to her friend, "You should be in bed, Lu."

"Hmm?" came the bleary reply.

"Come on, Love." Jude said patiently, pulling her and the baby up. "Bye Valerie. Go to bed soon, alright?"

She smiled and walked them to the door. Then she came back to see Max lounging on a few boxes, his eyes closed and his mouth curved up in a peaceful smile.

Valerie sat by the box and played with his fingers for a while. They were really long, she noticed, and there was no dirt under the nails or anything.

"Well, you're going to have fun unpacking tomorrow." He said, not moving from his position.

"Yeah…" And suddenly Valerie let go of his hand and burst into tears. He sat up, a bewildered expression on his face, and patted her back awkwardly.

"What is it?" he asked gently, still thoroughly confused.

"You keep helping me!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"But you did! You came and you helped me move, and you drive me home so often, and you take me out to lunch, and that makes me feel _terrible _because I never do that back…" she was sobbing fiercely by now, and Max hugged her, still very awkward and unsure.

"I don't do it to make you feel bad, I just do it because I like spending time with you, honestly… Stop crying, Val, please?"

She tried, and ended up a hiccupping, sniffing, mess trying to wipe her nose on her sleeve subtly. Max offered a handkerchief from his pocket, which she blew in gratefully.

"Are you ok?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. Just PMS." She managed.

Max chuckled, still slightly confused about what had just happened, and patted her on the back once again.

"Don't you have to go?" she sniffed, dabbing at her eyes.

"No. I never have to go anywhere, except for work, and I like it too much for it to really count."

"Oh."

He gathered her up in his arms again; afraid that would break down once more. "You really should break down every once in a while," he grinned, "gives me a chance to hug you."

"Very funny." She glared at him, but nonetheless leaned her head against his chest. She closed her eyes, and soon enough, her breathing steadied.

Max sat there, watching her. It felt a little like being stalker, and he knew that if _she _knew, she would shoot him right there and then, but he couldn't help it. She was pretty.

"Valerie." He whispered into her ear, untangling him self from her. She made a noise like a cat when it wakes up and then blushed.

"You can go home." She told him immediately.

"You have both keys, right?"

"No, I gave Lucy one."

"Ok. And you have the other one?"

"Yes."

"Lock the door, ok? I didn't mind Lucy moving out because she had Jude, but you're all alone."

"Ok." She said like an obedient child, getting up as he did.

"I'll be by tomorrow morning to help you unpack."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem. You know, you'll probably have to do the same when I move."

She grinned. "Least I can do. Now get out, before it gets too dark for you to stay up."

"Yes ma'am."

She kissed his cheek, and he went out the door. She locked it securely, as well as shutting and bolting all the windows. By the time she made it to the one mattress she had, she was drowsy and disheveled. She didn't bother to change, but fell asleep right there and then, her red hair spewed all about the pillow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was up the next morning bright and early. She took out some clothes and toiletries from the small suitcase she'd packed before moving, and cleaned herself thoroughly; ashamed she'd fallen asleep in her clothes.

By the time she'd combed and dried her hair, Jude had come down with a message that she was to come have breakfast with them before they starved. She laughed and willingly obliged. As she helped Lucy and Mrs. Feeney wash the dishes, there was a knock at the door, and Max came in yawning a little.

"Good morning sunshine." Valerie told him with a small smile.

"Good morning… whoa, you're wearing a dress!" he suddenly noticed. Valerie blushed—it was a short sleeved, light blue quotidian dress her mother had sent her a few days before her move. By then, it was too late to pack it in one of the boxes, so she'd shoved it in her suitcase and told herself she'd wear it eventually.

"Do you have to comment on _everything?_" Lucy demanded, saving her friend the trouble of answering to such an obnoxious statement.

"No," Max shrugged, sitting at the table next to Jude, who was sketching, "just most things."

"Did you want food?" Jude asked him, not looking up from his work.

"Just company."

"Well, that's a first." Lucy mumbled. The baby wasn't quite up yet, and the fact that she was up before Rose and not sleeping for as long as she possibly could bothered her a little.

"Valerie, you dry, dear." Mrs. Feeney said kindly, giving the younger woman the towel.

"When are you going to start unpacking?" Lucy asked.

"After this, I think. I honestly didn't know I owned that much furniture." The walls didn't bother her, because she'd had them painted before she'd moved in. They weren't quite as psychedelic as the Feeney household—nothing really was (the place was starting to rival Sadie's)—but they suited her taste well enough. At least they weren't white.

Max nodded absently, following Valerie with his eyes.

Again, the stalker-like behavior. He really should stop.

When she had put the last of the plates away, Valerie slipped her shoes on, followed by Max, and bid farewell to her friends, who promised they'd be bye later with Prudence to help too.

"Right." He asked, looking at all the boxes challengingly when they got to the new apartment. "Where should we start?"

Valerie's face was more despairing than challenging, but she sighed and told him what to do anyways. Soon enough they'd gotten rid of quite a bit of the pile—various plates and silverware she'd inherited from various relatives who lived in various places… and most of the kitchen. They had to relocate the kitchen table to where it was supposed to go, since the movers had just dumped it in the middle of the living room, and then move the sofa, which had been put in the living room.

"Say, Valerie?" Max asked after they had moved it and were sitting down on it panting a little. "Are we going to eat at any point today."

She realized with a pang of guilt how hungry he must be, and then that her own stomach was grumbling.

"Let's go," she told him, pulling him off the sofa and out the door. They went upstairs briefly to ask Lucy if she needed anything, since they were going out. She gave them a short list of baby supplies and a few bills, and then retreated again into her room to try and rock Rose back to sleep.

The two went out and walked over to Café Huh? where the waiters, bleary-eyed from Sadie's gig the night before, managed to get them two burgers and a handful of fries. When they were done, they walked very slowly back to the apartment, hands shoved in their pockets and a small smile on Max's face.

"What are you grinning about?" she demanded.

"Eh? Nothing, nothing…"

"Tell me!" she nudged him.

"Fine, fine."

"Easily persuaded, aren't we?"

"If you break my heart, I'll go." He told her very sincerely.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm smiling because…"

"Because?"

"Because I want to."

She rolled her eyes as they went in again, but was conscious how he watched her climb the stars to the apartment—fondly, she thought, almost lovingly.

They had unpacked another room by the end of the day. By then, Valerie was a little sweaty from the heat and tired. She sat down on her sofa gladly, and threw a pillow at Max, who was putting away a few cassettes.

"Don't know why I keep them," she muttered, holding up a copy of _Help! _Still, it was one of her favorite movies—she couldn't really find it in her heart to throw it out, even if it did take up time and space.

Max plopped himself down beside her and released a breath loudly.

"I do appreciate you being round, Carrigan." She told him, patting his knee awkwardly.

"Yeah, I know." He got that little grin of his again, and she glared.

"You really have to tell me why you're smiling all the time."

"I told you already—"

"You didn't want to a few months ago."

"It was different then."

"How so?"

He leaned close to her, that smile still on his face. "You may never know. But I would be sad, I think, if you didn't find out eventually."

"So you'll tell me, yes?"

"No."

Valerie rubbed her temples. "You wanna keep working or call it a day? I bet we could finish if we do it now."

Max pulled her up. "There's only your bedroom left, and I _have_ to see to that."

She gave him a little shove. "Pervert."

"As always."

He set up her bed for her, and together they lifted the mattress and dumped it on. The wardrobe was easy enough—all they had to do was move it from the living room to the bedroom, and the desk was already there. The two bedside tables were moved too, and then they were done. All that was left to move were all the cardboard boxes they'd unpacked.

Around six, they went up to the Feeney's for dinner, where a considerably calmer Lucy and a relieved Jude welcomed them. Rose was, once again, asleep, and Mrs. Feeney was knitting in the room next door, having already eaten.

"We finished today," Valerie told them happily, setting the table while Lucy quickly whipped up some salad.  
"Congratulations," Jude told her. "You're stuck here for good now."

Valerie grinned. "So you think."

"Max'll probably rob you of your food as often as he does to us now." Lucy joked. She set the salad bowl on the table, and the four of them sat down to eat. Valerie noticed her two friends looked haggard and slightly disheveled—Lucy, especially. Well, having children had probably taken a toll on them, young and energetic as they were.

At the end of the evening, Max and Valerie left with full stomachs.

"Well, I guess tomorrow you get the place to yourself, eh?" Max laughed. She could sense a little bit of sadness in it though.

"Of course not." She told him casually, leaning against the doorframe. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and looked at her curiously. "You're coming here for breakfast, lunch _and _dinner. And Lucy, Jude, Mrs. Feeney, and Rose are, too. For dinner, anyways."

"You're _inviting _me now? And I'm accepting. We're getting very respectable, these days." He chuckled.

"Yes, well… I know you'll bring something unrespectable to disrespect my respectable home… Wow, did I just get that all out?"

He laughed again and kissed the top of her head. "You bet I will, kid. I'll see you then, bright and early before work." He waved and trotted down the stairs without another word.

Valerie smiled a little, sad to see him go, and annoyed that she was sad to see him go.

Then she went in and locked the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first few days after Rose's birth, Lucy didn't get a wink of sleep. Jude, being who he was, didn't get some either because she wasn't getting any… and even Mrs. Feeney couldn't. Having a baby, they soon discovered, was much more difficult than expected.

"I thought," Lucy said through a yawn to Jude, who stood behind her with his arms around her waist as she tried to sway her daughter to sleep, "that they were supposed to be cute, _quiet _little creatures…"

"I thought so too," he answered, putting his head on hers. It still amazed him that his wife was so small, and yet able to do so much.

And it made him prick with guilt, too, every time he thought about how he'd almost left them. He hadn't told her yet—and he planned to, of course, because it was impossible for him to keep secrets from her, just… later.

"I guess we were both wrong." She looked lovingly at the child, who was finally—for the first time, it seemed, in days—asleep. Lucy put her in the crib by their bed and kissed her forehead.

She yawned again and smiled.

"Go to sleep, Love." He told her gently, kissing her.

"I will, I will, but… Max…told me something."

"What did he say?" he asked cautiously.

"About… you, and the day Rosie was born…He said you ran away." She was no longer smiling, but looking at him with such intensity that his heart nearly burst with fresh guilt.

"I did. And I'm so, so sorry, Lucy." He whispered.

"But you came back."

He nodded slowly.

"Will you tell me why?"

He nodded again, and slowly related his thoughts that night, and his time at the dock… He saw a little tear come down Lucy's cheek when he was done.

"You're still an idiot." She told him, looking at the gold wedding band on her finger. Mrs. Feeney had brought them over from Liverpool—they'd been her parents'—but she'd only thought to give them to her children a week after the marriage with sincere apologies.

"I know."

"I'll _always_ love you…and Rose will—_does—_too, of course." She told him firmly, her hand now on his cheek. "And you're a moron for thinking otherwise." She wiped her tear with her free hand and shook her head. "Ack, look what you made me do… Got all soppy… disgusting."

He grinned, "_You're _the one who cries, Love, not me."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not a big strong man like you, Jude Feeney. That would be a little awkward, don't you think?"

"Very, _very _awkward."

"I'm glad you agree. Can we go to sleep, now?" she asked tiredly.

He hugged her, and she returned the embrace assuredly, then kissed him.

And it was, at that moment, that Rose Feeney let out a wail that demanded her parents' immediate attention.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_We had no doubts, before the war. Oh sure, we had the what if's and what then's, but they weren't real, refusing-to-go-away doubts. What we had was now, and only now, and we promised we would live now to the fullest, nothing more or less. It was difficult to give up the peace._

It had been a whole three months since she'd last written, and all she could come up with was fifteen pages.

Still, it was something.

It was night time, of course, and Jude was asleep—and Rose, too, thank goodness. She loved her baby too much for words, but the hours in which she slept were precious time for both mother and father. Lucy herself hadn't been out of the house in… what, a week? But she wasn't bored. She couldn't be, with Rose. Jude had to go to work of course, but Sadie was more lenient with him than the usual, which was nice of her. Not that she wasn't always lenient with her former tenants—the older woman came every few days to make sure Lucy and Jude got some form of sleep and nourishment.

"Lucy," Jude mumbled drowsily, "Go to sleep."

"I'm going, I'm going…"

He sat up and yawned. "What are you doing, anyways?"

Lucy turned to him with a small smile. "Nothing."

"I told you my secrets, now you tell me yours."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at him peculiarly, her eyes wide and her lips curved upwards sheepishly.

"I'm writing."

He looked genuinely surprised. "_Writing?"_

She nodded slowly.

"Alright. But do it during the day, will you?"

"With Rose, it's a little difficult." She laughed, climbing into bed beside him. Then she put her fingers on his nose for a minute. "You don't mind?"

"At night, I do."

She tugged. "It just keeps getting longer every day… Admit it, you secretly like watching me sitting at a typewriter."

He grinned, "So what if I do?"

"You shouldn't lie to me Jude, it's very bad within married couples." She said matter-of-factly, in perfect imitation of her mother.

"Let me get you a cup of tea, Love, it might calm you down." He retorted, a male replica of his own mum.

"Oh no, it upsets my nerves."

"Max might be able to get you something for that."

"Oh, but you know my brother—he's probably surrounded by promiscuous dope-fiends."

"Well, Dear, that won't do at _all._ I _must _make you a cup of tea."

"Oh no, Mr. Feeney, I insist, do _not_ bother, you may spill the hot water all over yourself and then think of the trip to the hospital, and the bills…"

"You're absolutely right, Madam. Should I leave you alone, it is likely that you should forget to turn off the lamp, and then you would wake in the morning with a terrible headache and then trip over the stairs and break something valuable, Mrs. Feeney…"

Lucy grimaced. "No Mrs. Feeney. It doesn't sound right on anyone but your mother."

Jude smiled and shook his head. "Applies to you too, Love."

"The technical aspects."

"Yeah… weren't we going to sleep?"

"That's right…" she was wide-awake though, even as they turned off the lights, crawled under the blankets and he hugged her to him.

She could tell he wasn't asleep either, though.

"What do you think of Valerie?" she asked, after they'd been quiet for a while.

"She's funny. Kind enough, I think, if she can put up with Max."

"But she won't be stepped on."

"True. Why do you ask?"

"Max is looking at her."

"Max looks at _every _girl he's ever met, except you."

"No, but he actually _looks _at her. As though she means more than a one-night stand to him."

Jude nodded against her head, which was tucked into his neck. "That's true."

"I'm curious."

"He's your brother. Of course you're curious."

"But I think he actually likes her."

"You've already said that, Luce."

"I know." She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. "I can't sleep." She murmured.

"Me neither." He whispered. "What do you say we leave Mum a note and go to Sadie's gig?"

Lucy sat up. "It's been a while since we've done that, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it 'as." She sat up with her and turned the lamp back on.

"But Rose…"

"She'll be with Mum. Besides, she's nearly three months old now, she can stand a few minutes alone." He was out of bed and getting dressed.

Lucy grinned and got up too. "Ok." She was ready in a few minutes, wearing a pair of old jeans she somehow fit in after pregnancy and a loose green blouse. She moved a sleeping Rose to Mrs. Feeney's bedroom and woke the old woman up gently to tell her she and Jude were going out for a few hours and would be back no later than three. Then she left, and she and Jude walked to Café Huh?

"Lucy! Jude!" Max shouted over the din when they came in. "Didn't know you were coming!" He came and gave Jude a clap on the back and Lucy a hug, then he dragged them over to where he, Prudence, and Valerie were sitting.

"Hello!" Valerie yelled cheerily. Her wild, chin-length, red ringlets were pulled back in a ponytail, and her shirt and jeans paint-splattered.

"Isn't it great?" she said sarcastically, noticing Lucy's stare. "Your stupid brother decided to steal a few brushes from the studio at work and shoot at me… the couch is like this too."

"Aren't you annoyed about the couch?"

"No, I was going to cover it anyways… he knew that. I'm still going to kill him, though."

"Can I help?" Lucy asked, grinning. "I haven't killed Max in ages…"

"Ok!" both women laughed, already slightly intoxicated. Then Sadie came on the stage, and there was the usual wild screaming…

Jude leaned over to talk to her. "How do you like New York so far?" he asked, smiling.

She kissed him. "Could go out for a breath of air…"

"Yeah, alright." They somehow made it out, arms around each other's waists.

Then suddenly, they were laughing wildly, making their way back to the apartment blearily.

"No wonder I don't do that anymore," Lucy managed between her laughter, "I really can't take the noise …"

"Goes to your head." He told her, also laughing.

"Goes more to yours…"

"I know…"

They made it back and into bed, where they dropped off to sleep, finally, at around two.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Rose was going to daycare. How did their little girl suddenly end up in daycare? Lucy had to ask herself. _Her _baby, in daycare. Like she couldn't take care of her baby herself…

_Actually, you can't, _her subconscious told her dully. _You want her to get an education, don't you?_

Lucy hugged her six-month old baby to her chest and kissed her daughter's forehead. She had to go back to work, she told herself firmly. She and Jude were on a bit of a strain at the moment, with her out of work and Mrs. Feeney staying with them…Rose had to go to daycare, and Lucy had to work. And since Mrs. Feeney would be leaving in a few weeks, she couldn't leave Rose with her, either.

So it was daycare.

"Here's her food, and spare diapers, and some toys, too." Lucy handed the daycare manager, a woman in her sixties, her baby bag, and kissed Rose on the cheek once more.

"We'll take good care of her."

"Bye bye, Rosie," Lucy cooed. Her baby gurgled merrily. "Have a nice day." She took leave of her daughter reluctantly, hugging her three more times and reassuring her unquestioning child that mommy would be back as soon as she got out and that she would never, _ever _forget her here.

"Mrs. Feeney," the elderly daycare manager reminded her. Lucy needed to get to work. Jude would wonder where she was if she didn't say hello when she came in.

She walked slowly to Strawberry Jamz, a feeling of emptiness turning in her stomach. What if they let her run out into the street?

_She can't run yet. She can barely sit up._

Right. Can't run. Well, at least that was a little reassuring.

What if they kidnapped her?

_Woman's sixty, you did a ton of research, and there were dozens of other children there._

She went in quietly and walked blindly to Jude's studio.

"Hello," he said cheerfully when she came in. She smiled half-heartedly, much like she'd smiled after Daniel had passed away. Jude shook his head and hugged her, an embrace she fell limply into and didn't really return. "You're picking her up in five hours, Lu."

"Yeah, but…"

"Don't pretend you didn't need a break."

"She's my baby. I never need a break."

Jude rolled his eyes and kissed her. "You're a terrible liar, Love."

Lucy untangled herself from him and made for the door again. "See you at lunch."

She met Max on the way to the recording studio.

"Luce, they're getting really annoying back there… I was made for paperwork, not _them_."

"Hmm?" she looked at him absently.

"Those Beatles of yours. I thought Liverpool boys were all polite and stuff, like Jude—not like _that._"

"Yeah, you get used to them after a while."

"How'd you do it?"

"Told them I was married."

"Ah."

Lucy left him and made her way to the recording studio, where for young men were banging on a set of drums like idiots.

"Alright, get up, let's work." She snapped when she came in.

"Carrigan! Sorry; Feeney!"

"Yeah. Get your instruments and lets go, already."

They scrambled into action surprisingly fast. Maybe a few days with Max was what they had really needed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You burned it!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Maxwell, it's singed, that's all."

"No, you burned it."

"Shut up."

Max shook his head incredulously and turned off the stove, picking at the stew with a wooden spoon. He came out with a few watery lumps, which he looked at disgustedly. Valerie glared at him, then, the stew, then back at him.

"Can we go out?"

"No, you're eating it."

"You're joking, right?"

"No. _You are eating it._ It's a waste of food."

"Not even those dying children in Africa would eat _that._"

Valerie punched his shoulder. "Fine. But put it in the compost."

"You have a compost? It's New York City, woman! Where are you going to dump it afterwards?"

"I give it to Mr. Harrison, down stairs. He has a garden in his balcony." She explained patiently, putting it carefully away in a small red bucket.

"Ah. I see."

She glared at him once more

and put the now-empty pot of stew in the sink and started washing it.

"What?" he demanded, baffled that she was still glaring at him.

"You're making fun of me!"

"I _always _make fun of you, Val. I also happen to be madly in love with you, so will you forgive me?" he waggled his eyebrows jokingly.

"Very funny. Put this away, will you?" she gave him the clean pot, which he put in the cupboard obediently.

"So where and when are we eating?" he asked when he was done. They both sat down at the kitchen table, and there was a roar of thunder outside—rainy season already! Valerie sighed quietly. She'd already been in New York a whole year.

"There's salad in the fridge, and cookies in the pantry."

"That works." He got up to get said items, and came back with the salad bowl, a few forks, and the box of cookies.

"You didn't get plates?"

"Who needs plates?" he stuck his fork in the salad and ate unceremoniously.

"You're disgusting."

"But _you _don't want to get up and get the plates." He said wisely.

Valerie took a forkful of salad too, ignoring his last comment. She really didn't mind sharing with him, just as long as he was polite about it.

Of course, it was Max, so he gobbled up three quarters of the salad before she could finish her quarter. She didn't mind that, either… did she mind it when he did _anything _anymore?

"So I found an apartment." He said casually, now starting on the cookies, and moving to the couch. She followed, because he'd taken the food with him, and leaned on his knees.

"Finally." She looked up at him. "You like it, right?"

"It's alright."

"I suppose that's good."

"Being the only son—even if I _am _a looser—Mom and Dad sent me all this crap I've inherited."

"Ah. So how much do we have to unpack?"

"A lot."

"Ok."

They sat in silence for while, with Max humming absently, and Valerie munching on a cookie. Suddenly, the pounding of the rain on the windows stopped.

"Here comes the sun." Max murmured.

"Yeah…"

"Valerie, can I tell you something important?"

She smiled lazily and closed her eyes. "Sure."

"I really am madly in love with you."

"I thought you were going to be serious."

"I am."

Her eyes snapped open, wide as saucers. She didn't move, or say anything.

"Valerie?"

"Yes?"

"Did you…"

"Yes, I did." She said harshly.

"Oh. Well, I guess I'd better go then." His voice was bitter, and it penetrated a little, that he was going.

No answer.

She heard the miserable click of a door, and she realized with a guilty pang that she'd made him do that. Was that what had been happening to her this last year? _Falling in love?_ It was a little weird, now that she thought about it. But undeniably true.

And he was slipping past her fingers, as she thought about it.

She jumped up and ran after him, not bothering to put on her shoes. He was getting out the door when she was at the top of the stairs, but she flew down anyways.

"Max!" she shouted, just as she got out of the apartment. It was raining again, she noticed vaguely. He stopped, just as he was getting in the car, and turned to look at her with fierce cobalt eyes. She ran him into the car and squeezed him gutless.

"I've discovered I'm in love with you." She whispered. It was raining heavily again, as Max put his arms around her and swung her around.

It was the first kiss she'd had that she actually enjoyed—the others she'd had were so plain and lifeless, but this one was so…

She pulled away and laughed. He was grinning like an idiot on drugs, but he looked at her happily.

"Max! Valerie!" came a small screech from above. Lucy stood out on the balcony staring at them skeptically. "Get inside, now!"

The couple hurried in quickly and raced up the stairs, till they banged into the door of her apartment. It took them another minute before Max was pressing Valerie against her door and kissing her fiercely.

She pulled away and put a hand on his mouth, smiling. "That's enough! Get off of me and let's sit down and discuss this like adults."

"Fine, fine." He picked her up and dumped her on the couch, where he sat down beside her and stared at her intently for a full minute, and she back at him.

"Bet Lucy comes storming down here in an hour or so." She said with a grin.

"Bet you're right."

"I'm always right, Carrigan."

He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, where she tucked her head into his neck and closed her eyes, as they'd done some time ago… only it wasn't so comfortable back then.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They woke up in the same position at about midnight.

Valerie stood and stretched, a little sore. Not because Max wasn't comfortable, but because sitting on anything for twelve hours straight did that to you.

He woke up and watched her.

"You should go." She turned and kissed him lightly as he stood too.

"Are you sure?"

She smiled, "Absolutely."

"Because, if you _weren't—"_

"But I am—"

"I would be more than happy to stay."

"I know you would. But I really think you should go."

"Valerie Valerie Valerie… so innocent…" he shook his head.

"And planning to stay that way. I'm serious. Go."

"But—"

"You're coming back tomorrow for breakfast, aren't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Or do you want me to come? I haven't been to Sadie's in a while—I'd like to say hi."

"You just don't want to make breakfast."

"No, I don't. Besides, all you would get would be cereal anyways. You finished all my cookies."

"Fine fine… but there's only cereal there, too."

"I know."

"So…"

"Not much difference."

"It'll taste sweeter because you love me." Max sighed, with such a fake, cheesy expression of lovesickness that she had to laugh.

"If Capt'n Crunch was any sweeter, it'd be really gross. But it's midnight, not breakfast time, so get out!"

Max sighed again, really this time. "Fine, fine…"

She walked him to the door, and down the stairs, and to the car, which she would never have done normally, but she was a little sad to see him go.

Max stared out at the sidewalk. "Ah, look at all the lonely people."

"How do you know they're lonely?"

"Because they don't have a Valerie."

She rolled her eyes. "You're full of those today, aren't you?"

"Valerie, if you were a laser, you'd be on stunning."

"Go away!" she nearly shoved him into the car with a small laugh, then ran back up, since she was still barefoot and messy from her previous excursion into the rain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lucy turned back incredulously at Jude. "I _knew _he liked her!" she came in, where he hugged her tightly.

Mrs. Feeney came into the room with a peaceful look on her face. "I'm leaving tomorrow, Dears." She told them flatly.

Lucy looked up at her mother-in-law. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The older woman shrugged, but Jude saw past the calm exterior.

"Really, Mum—"

"Nothing at all."

He would regret it, years afterwards, that he hadn't pressured her into telling them more.

"But I need you to take me to the port, tomorrow."

"Alright…" Jude frowned, and let go of Lucy as his mother exited the room.

"You don't think she's… sick, or anything, do you?" his wife murmured worriedly.

He tried to reassure both himself and his wife. "No. I hope not. No, it's…impossible."

Lucy went without another word to their bedroom. When he came in, her pillow was slightly wet, and her nose blotchy, but she was asleep, so he couldn't say anything.

Rose stirred awake and made a small noise. He went to his daughter's crib and picked her up lovingly, rocking her back and forth and humming, as he'd seen Lucy do so many times. Rose smiled and drifted off to sleep, as most babies are likely to do. He didn't stop rocking her when her eyes were closed though—he'd learned from experience that if he stopped the minute she fell asleep, she'd wake up and he'd have to start the process all over again.

After a few minutes, he kissed her forehead and put her back in the cradle. Lucy was only a few feet away, sprawled on the bed with her pajamas buttoned wrong and her hair askew… so he picked up his sketchbook and drew them both the way he saw them—copies of each other, only Rose had different coloring.

After about an hour of this, he put his things away and went to bed, hugging Lucy close to him and watching Rose over the top of his wife's head. He wouldn't give them up for the world, he thought sleepily. His mother's sudden announcement made him paranoid over their well being… because even though he'd only had a wife for about a year, and a child for half of that, he couldn't imagine life without them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Valerie stirred awake miserably. It was about midnight, she and Max were comfortably asleep on the couch once again… Why had she woken up?

Ah. The yellow phone was ringing.

She delicately got his legs off of hers, and dislodged her arm from under his head, where he had been using it as a pillow. The phone was still ringing, but it had been ringing for some time, so she should hurry and pick it up…

"Hello?" she said sleepily.

"Valerie?"

"Joan!" she woke up suddenly at the sound of her younger sister's voice.

"You have to come home."

"Joan, you have to tell me why…" though her sister was barely ten, though she still insisted on people following her orders blindly.

"Anna, and her baby…"

"What?" she'd known Anna was going to their parents' for while with her baby, but she hadn't known much more. Dave was supposed to have gone with them, and her mother was going to see her grandchild and everything.

"He's… dead."

Valerie didn't say anything. What time was it? What day, what hour, what minute… when had it happened?

"Yesterday. Anna's depressed as hell and mom, too, and Dave left…" Joan was sobbing on the other end of the line, and Valerie was getting close to it.

"Where… where to?" she managed.

"He said he needed a break."

"A…A _break?"_

"You _have_ to come. We need you, Valerie, please, please…" Joan broke down again.

Valerie released a long breath. "Ok, Joan, don't cry. I'm coming. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon, ok? Please don't cry."

Joan sniffed, "Ok."

Valerie let out a breath of relief as she hung up and shook Max awake.

"You should go," she murmured.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… Just, you have to go. I have some things to arrange…"

He sat up. "There's something you're not telling me."

"I…I'll tell you tomorrow morning." There were tears coming to her eyes already. Now that she wasn't comforting Joan, she was sick with worry about her sister and nephew herself.

Max was silent for a moment, his hand on her cheek. "Ok. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

She returned his kiss half-heartedly, and he looked at her concernedly.

"Max?" she asked, when he was halfway out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Come by really early, Ok?"

"Ok."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jude drove Mrs. Feeney (he _could _drive—he just chose to let Max do most of it) to the port in Jo-Jo and Sadie's car, with Lucy in the back next to Rose, who was firmly tucked into a car seat. The drive was spent in silence, with Lucy and his mother's occasional chatter and Rose's baby noises. He loved his mother, but he wished she would say something. Anything, right now.

"Mum," Jude said worriedly, as they got out of the car, "are you sure…?"

"I'm positive, Jude."

"Why?"

"I've told you why. I miss Liverpool."

Jude chose not to say anything about that. Instead, he hugged his mother tightly and kissed her cheek. "We can always come to you, some day." He told her gently.

"I hope so, Love." She turned to Lucy, whose nose was red and eyes threateningly full. "You take care of my grandchild, young lady," she smiled and hugged her daughter-in-law, who hugged her back as best she could with Rose on her hip. "And you," Mrs. Feeney took Rose from her mother's hands and kissed her cheek, "be good to your parents."

She was off in a few minutes. Jude and Lucy waited with their child as the boat untangled itself from the port's ropes and anchors and slowly made it's way over the horizon, a big, hulking metal thing that didn't look too graceful at all.

Jude kissed Lucy on the cheek and took Rose from her, for which she smiled gratefully. "Well, Love, for the first time in, what, a year and a half? That we have the house to ourselves."

Lucy chuckled and gestured towards the child in his arms, "Not quite, Judy."

Jude looked at Rose and snorted, grinning a little "This thing? That doesn't count. She'll be in her own room in just a few months and…"

Lucy punched his arm, "You've been talking to Max too much. Innuendoes and those kinds of comments belong at home, and they _stay _at home." She lectured severely, though he could tell she didn't mean an ounce of it.

"Yes, dear." He said meekly, and they made their way to the car again.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lucy's eyelids fluttered open. There was light streaming through the window, illuminating their bedroom and turning it all sorts of shades of red.

She never got why Jude had decided to paint it as he did—with a wide variety of texture and warm colors. He'd said that, since it was _their_ bedroom, it had to be the weirdest, most eccentric room in the whole apartment. But it didn't have to be ugly, either. She'd laughed, as she watched him paint.

_"What are you laughing about?" he demanded, his brush still in hand. She sat on a cardboard box filled with books that her parents had sent, munching on an apple._

_"Your concentration level," she grinned._

_He chuckled and put the brush down, before he came and wrapped his arms around her. "Well, it's very difficult you know…"_

_"Don't give me that," her grin got broader, as she ducked his kiss and his face fell in mock disappointment._

_"Fine, fine…" he stole a kiss anyways, and went back to work, Lucy still sitting and watching and eating her apple._

She smiled with the memory and rolled over to look at the clock. It was well into daytime—almost nine, actually. Was Rose up? She rolled over again—_Rose wasn't in her crib._

Before she could start to panic (because being a mother did that to you) Jude came in, fully dressed, with a mug of coffee, which he handed to her, before pulling her face to his in a very long, happy kiss.

"Good morning?" she managed, bewildered. "Where's Rose?"

Jude grinned. "Daycare."

"Should I be concerned?"

He shrugged, in a way that meant he knew something and wasn't letting on. "No, not particularly."

"Not particularly, but somewhat?"

"Maybe." He took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. "I hate it without milk. How do you drink it like that anyways?"

"I like it. If you _know_ you don't, why did you even try it?"

"Just to bother you."

She gave his forehead a little shove, which he dramatized and fell back, so that his feet were to her face and his head was dangling over the edge of the bed. "I've been hit!"

Lucy shook her head, a smile on her lips. Nearly a year now, and she still loved him way too much for his own good. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood and stretched. Jude sat up and followed her out into the kitchen. She put some bread in the toaster and sat at the table, waiting for it to warm up. Jude sat across from her and stared at her pointedly, till she raised her eyebrows and said, "Why aren't you at work?"

"Because I haven't got anything to do at work… not till…Wednesday, actually. When you finish recording with the Crickets, or Bees, or—"

"Beatles, Jude." She grinned and buttered the two pieces of toast, on of which she threw to him. "And just because you've got time off, doesn't mean I do."

"But it's only nine!" he plead.

"What can we do in the morning? You don't want to get drunk _this_ early, do you?"

"I'm not Max, Love." He said flatly. "Come on, you can think of something…"

"The grocery store? Those were the last two pieces of toast."

Jude raised his eyebrows, and Lucy laughed. "Weren't you going down the rabbit hole?"

"Yes, but _you _were feeding the cows."

"How did we get there, exactly?"

"I still don't know…" she said thoughtfully. One minute they'd been at Doctor Robert's party, next, they were on the bus.

He pulled her up and dragged her into the studio. They sat on the floor in front of a blank canvas, Lucy in his lap.  
"Why do you always have it so dark in here?"

"It's… calming."

"Not eerie?"

"Not at all." His head was resting gently on her shoulder.

They lay there for a few minutes in silence, looking at nothing and everything.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Again?_"

"What? What's wrong with it?"

"Rose isn't even a year old…"

"So… So…" The rest of the phrase was washed out with Lucy's vomit. And Prudence was holding her head up once again.

"How are you going to take care of two babies?"

"We'll manage!" she wretched again, making a horrible gagging noise. Jude ran into the bathroom, bewildered and half asleep.

"What happened? What's going on?" he demanded incredulously.

"I…" Lucy bent over the toilet once again.

"I can't believe you, man." Prudence scoffed.

"What? What's wrong with her? Did she get food poisoning?"

"She's been throwing up for the past week…"

"So she's… Oh."

"Yeah."

Lucy managed to look up. Her face was pale, and so was his. He walked to her side slowly; Prudence discreetly exited the room. "We're going to have to work hard for this one."

"I know, but the Beatles are doing so well…"

"And I'll probably have to take a second job, and the baby'll probably get Rose's old things for a while."

She was quiet, still extremely pale, and had unconsciously put an arm around her belly. "Do you want me to go to the clinic?"

"No!" he said firmly, "Of course not. But it won't be as easy, with two babies in this small apartment, and my mother not here this time."

"We'll get by." She breathed.

He took her in his arms and smiled shakily, "I know—I love you."

"I... Oh lord…" she turned around and wretched again. Jude held her sunny locks back and stayed with her for the rest of the hour. Both of them ended up clutching each other, in the bathroom, in their pajamas—Lucy sweaty and both of them pale.

"Someone has to take Rose to daycare…" Lucy managed after yet another bout.

"Prudence can do that. Or she can just miss today. In fact, I can just take her to work with me today, and you can go to the doctor."

"I don't need a doctor, I already know I'm pregnant."

"No, you'd better go anyways, just in case." He smoothed her hair back and pulled them up—she hadn't realize they'd dropped to the floor and were under the sink.

Lucy crawled out and stood. "Give Sadie my excuses… tell her I'll be by a little later."

He let her shower and get dressed. Then he came in again and brushed her hair for her.

"Don't do anything stupid on the way to the doctor's." he said worriedly.

"_Jude._" She rolled her eyes, "You're not my mother. _Goodbye._" She kissed him lightly and left, tying her hair up at the same time.

The doctor confirmed it, of course. So, once again, she was pregnant. Ah well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you…?"

"I thought we'd already established this."

"Oh."

"Look, if you don't _want _a baby—"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I do. I just wanted to be sure…"

"It's sure."

Jude turned around and looked away from her. How could he say no to a face like Lucy's? He wanted another child, but now wasn't the right time, or place. He'd always imagined them in a house somewhere in New Jersey, Rose thirteen and blooming, and a brood of other kids running about up and below the stairs…

"Are you worried?"

"No." He lied.

"Don't make things up."

"Of course I'm worried!"

"What about? I told you we'd manage. It won't be so much different than usual."

"Now who's making things up?"

"Fine. It will. But not to the extent that you should spend nine months brooding about it."

"I'm not brooding!"

"Are too."

"We're not broke, Jude."

"Of course not. That's not what I'm worried about anymore." Well, he wasn't completely lying. That wasn't all he was concerned with anymore—what about the child itself? What if they neglected it, or Rose?

Lucy rolled her eyes. "That won't happen."

Apparently he'd spoken these thoughts aloud. "How do you know?"

"Because I love Rose and I love this child equally. And you will too, believe me."

He rolled over and rubbed her belly, pulling the covers up to their shoulders and hugging her to him. It was nearly winter—autumn, in fact, and for Thanksgiving they'd been invited at the Carrigan household once again. It meant that they could spend Christmas at home, though, so Jude didn't complain.

"Don't you know it's gonna be alright?" Lucy sang quietly, cupping his face in her hands.

"Life goes on." He breathed.

They fell asleep peacefully that night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Valerie was distressed. She was more than distressed—she was on the brink of explosion.

She miserably recalled the conversation she and Max had had shortly before they'd left.

_"Take care, Val."_

_"Yeah… I'm going to kill him."_

_"No, don't do that. I won't be good for you conscience."_

_"I know… I don't care. How could he do that to her? I'm going to slaughter him if I get my hands on him. Not a word from him. And Heath…" She swallowed. She still hadn't allowed herself to cry quite yet._

_"Valerie…"_

_"No, I should really go."_

_"Call me when you get there, alright?"_

_"I will."_

Now, she was sitting on her hands in the train, swallowing the bile that came up in her throat and trying, once more, not to cry.

Heath. Baby Heath, who'd hardly been able to reach past the length of her fingertips to her elbow when she'd first held him. She'd been there when he'd taken his first steps, and regurgitated his first bite of real food…

How? How had this happened?

She slipped her head in her arms and breathed heavily. Not yet. She would wait till she got to Anna's, and then she would cry.

The train lurched to a stop. Her breath caught in her throat—she gathered her bags quickly and ran out before the crowd could start up.

She had told her parents she would take a cab to their house, but it took her some time to realize that they wouldn't pick her up. It was so odd, being at the train station, all alone, with no one else to bother or be bothered by… come to think of it, it was strange being alone, period. Since they'd admitted to having fallen in love, she and Max had spent every waking hour they could with each other. So, in actuality, it was weird being alone, without _Max. _

_Where has the time gone? _Only minutes ago they'd awkwardly been saying hello, showing up at the Feeney's by chance at the same time (time and time again), then him driving her around because she had no car, then helping her unpack, then… then…

She sniffed and hailed a driver, amazed that she was able to find them so casually in Massachusetts. Ah well. It was Boston, after all.

"51 Basking Road, Lexington."

"Right then."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

It was silent in the cab. Valerie blew her nose loudly in the back seat, thinking about how different Max's drives had been. They'd laughed, sung, done a few things they shouldn't…

"So, you visiting the family for Christmas?"

"I'm a Buddhist." She managed through an onslaught of new, quiet tears.

He turned to look at her, and she opened her mouth to protest and tell him to look ahead, but he turned back after a second or two.

"Sure don't look like one."

"Christ didn't look like a Christian."

"Sorry, Miss."

"No problem."

Silence, again. She tried to imagine the man's pale bald head as Max's shaggy blond one, but it didn't work.

"So you visiting the family or no?"

"I am."

"No Christmas though."

"Nope."

"I see. You'll just be visiting then. That's great too. I got a wife and three kids," he told her proudly, "and they're just beautiful children."

"I'm sure they are."

"Emily—my eldest—tryin' to teach herself the piano. She worked and made some money to buy some books, and she's been usin' the school piano."

"She must be very intelligent."

"She is…" he sighed and shut up, to Valerie's relief. She was sure that Lucy could have thought of something better to say to that, something sweeter and more feminine. Or Jude gotten the man interested in his limey accent, and they would have started a conversation about that. Or Max would have said some wild and hilarious comment—

No Max. _Don't think of him. You'll cry again._

Which seemed slightly ridiculous, since she'd never cried bout being separated from a guy for three or four weeks before.

She'd cried when Anna had first gone to school, or when she'd gotten married and she'd realized she wouldn't see her sister quite as often… or when Anna went into labor with Heath…

Heath… No, no Heath, either. Definitely not…

She couldn't help it. She burst into more silent tears and buried her face in her hands. Her poor, poor, darling baby Heath. How? How could this happen? He was a barely two, and she'd baked his birthday cake…

"Here you are, miss."

"Th-thank you." She stuttered. "How much do I owe you?"

"That'll be twenty."

She fished a bill out of her pocket and gave it to him when she'd gotten her bag.

"Take it easy, kid." He patted her shoulder awkwardly through the window and drove off.

She rang the doorbell miserably. Joan opened the door, and let silently. As soon as she'd put her bag down, however, her little sister ran into her arms and squeezed her gutless—but Valerie didn't care too much, because they were both crying loudly at this point.

_It's going to be a while._


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

And here they were, once again, the three of them lined up, shivering in the autumn air, one-year-old Rose in Jude's arms. She was old enough to crawl, but she still had to be carried around everywhere. Not that Jude minded too much—Lucy was five months pregnant, and carrying her had become too tiring, but Rose was still light as a feather to him.

Max was quiet this time. Jude glanced at him—when had Valerie become so much a part of their lives? She was supposed to have come with them to the Carrigan's, and he didn't like it that there were three of them instead of four. It seemed too incomplete—before Valerie, it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Now…

"Max," Lucy said softly, rubbing her hands together, "Ring the doorbell."

He did so obediently, which in itself was a shock.

And they waited.

And waited.

Rose patted Jude's nose and grinned. She had a grand total of four teeth, which Lucy brushed dutifully every day. Jude smiled and kissed his daughter palm. She giggled, just as Mrs. Carrigan opened the door and squealed excitedly. Which, in itself, as disturbing, because people like Mrs. Carrigan simply didn't squeal. However, he found Rose grabbed from his arms suddenly by her grandmother and bounced and hugged and kissed.

"Er, Mom?"

"Mmm?"

"Can we go in before you squeeze my daughter gutless?"

"Oh! Of course!"

They trooped in, taking off their coats and hanging them. Mrs. Carrigan carefully removed her granddaughter's coat and tossed it to Jude, who hung it up with the rest of them.

"Oh she's beautiful, Lucy! She looks just like you."

"No," Mr. Carrigan came in and examined his grandchild critically, "More like Jude."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "She doesn't _have _to look like either of us." She calmly took her daughter back and winced a little at the added weight. Jude quickly took her again, and Rose, who had been slightly by this sudden attention, returned to her previous happy calm. "Welcome back, Rosie." He told her happily.

"And another one on he way, I see." Mr. Carrigan patted his daughter's belly proudly. Lucy smiled, but Jude sensed another mood swing coming along.

"Max!" They suddenly turned on the eldest Carrigan child and hugged him. "Weren't you bringing someone?" Mrs. Carrigan asked worriedly.

"Her… Something came up with her family, and she had to leave."

"Well, I'm sure she'll be back soon."

Max didn't answer. Jude decided it was time to save the day and asked politely when they would eat, because all of them were starved and had been looking forward to Mrs. Carrigan's cooking all day.

He got the desired effect, and they were all shuffled in. Several more relatives were waiting at the table, talking amongst themselves.

They ate quickly, in relative peace. Then Lucy stood up, her eyes wide, and ran to the bathroom.

This always came around after a big meal.

"Max, will you watch Rose for a bit?"

"Sure." Rose fell into her uncle's lap with a giggle, and Max fed her from his plate, smiling.

"Oh I _do _hope she's well…" Aunt Eleanor murmured, taking a sip of juice.

"She's fine. This happens occasionally." Max told the table, now playing airplane with the spoon he was trying to get in her mouth.

Jude came back, a worried expression set on his features, followed by a slightly pale Lucy, who smiled and sat down once more. "Sorry about that. Really giving me trouble, this one."

"I have medicine, dear, if you need it—"

"No, Mom, I'm fine. Honestly."

"If you're sure…"

"Positive." The rest of the meal passed in that same calm as there had been before. The adults retired into the living room, while Lucy tucked Rose into bed upstairs.

"I've a half a mind to stay up here, kido." Lucy murmured softly, stroking her daughter's hair tenderly. "But I don't think your dad would like me too much for that."

She smiled softly at the sleeping figure of her daughter, kissed her forehead, and left the room for a long night downstairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Max?"

"Valerie! How are you? How've you been?"

"I… I don't really know, yet. I'm not sure anymore."

"How's Anna?"

Valerie sucked in a ragged breath. "Terrible. She's not getting out of bed in the morning and she hasn't been eating…"

"Sounds like post-war…"

"Don't go there."

"Do you think… maybe Anna should come back?"

"To New York?"

"Yeah, get her mind off things, the place where… you know."

"I never thought of that."

"Try."

She sighed. "I will. How are _you_?"

"Ah… You know. Usual crap and work and all that stuff…"

"You're not having nightmares?"

"Not really."

"Yes or no?"

"Is Anna?"

"You're not answering my question, Max."

"I know."

"So…?"

"Look, Lucy wants to talk to you. She's kind of pissed off right now… you know the hormones…"

"What hormones?"

"Oh yeah, you weren't—yeah yeah, you tell her. Here, Val." A pause. "Valerie?" It was a new voice this time.

"What hormones?" Valerie repeated.

"I'm pregnant again, Val."

"Oh… Oh my god! Why didn't anyone tell me this before?"

"Well, I'm only about five months along…"

"_Only_? Lucy! You're having another baby, and you only tell me now!"

"She's happy," she heard Lucy say to someone on the other end. "Jude says you're amazing."

"Still got the accent, huh?"

"Yup." Lucy was quiet for a moment, then, when she couldn't hold it in any longer, she asked plainly, "Valerie, when are you coming home?"

"Soon. Soon…"

"It's been nearly six months you've been gone…"

"I know… but Anna needs me."

"Yeah, I know…Will you be here when the baby comes?

"I don't know."

"Miss you though. Here's Jude." There was the sound of the phone shifting people, and Jude's accented voice drifted to the other end.

"How are ya, Val?"

"Good as I will be." She was always slightly more honest with Jude than the others. He was like her big brother—she was always worried with Max, because she never wanted to upset him. Lucy was a girl, which made her an entirely different phenomenon than either man. But Jude… Jude listened, and then talked.

So she vented.

"Ah." He said softly afterwards. "And you're sure you can't?"

"I'm almost positive."

"We're going to miss you, Val. A lot."

"I know… Keep the apartment clean for me, will you?"

"We'll try."

"Tell Max I love him."

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

"I'll cry."

"She loves you, Max." She heard him shout on the other end.

"Bye, Jude."

"Try to visit, alright? You don't have to spend the year alone. Or we'll visit you."

"I'll try. I love you too. And Lucy. And Rose, of course, and whoever's popping out next."

"I'll be sure to relate that message. Bye, Valerie."

"Goodbye." She waited for him to hang up, then put the phone down slowly. Realizing the finality of the click, she got off the couch and ran into Anna's bedroom to care for her sister.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They came back quietly, driving in Max's car, Rose safely strapped into a car seat and Lucy trying to sing her to sleep beside her. It took them about an hour to get back, and when they did, the younger Mrs. Feeney fell into the bed after putting Rose in her crib as though she'd been knocked out. Jude got her shoes off and tucked her under the covers, then went to the studio. He sat in front of a blank canvas and stared.

Valerie would be gone for a while, which automatically meant they would loose Max for a while as well. He hadn't heard from his mother for a while, except a note that said she'd gotten back in one piece. And nothing since.

"Jude?"

"Lucy, how did you wake up?"

"I got cold."

"Oh."

She sat down and curled up under his arm. "You don't look too good."

"Haven't heard from Mum in a while."

"Hold on a minute." She ran out, then a few seconds later came back with a starched white envelope. "This came in the mail when we were gone. I picked it up as when we came up. It's from Liverpool, but I don't think it's from your Mum…"

He took the letter from her curiously and tore it open. And read, slowly.

_My dear Jude,_

_I'm so sorry that I must be the one to tell you. But bear in mind that I am only the messenger, not the cause._

_Your mother passed away in her sleep on the eighth of May, 1972. The doctor said she had developed cancer._

_Please, please be well, my dear. I miss you with all my heart, and I would love to see or hear from you,_

_Take care,_

_Aunt Roxanne_

_PS: she made a will, which I shall intrust to you in my next letter._

Jude stared at the letter and blinked. He was trembling violently, he realized.

"Jude?"

He handed his wife the letter wordlessly.

"Dear god…No… no, there must be some sort of mistake. There must be plenty of Feeneys in Liverpool, she can't be the only one…" she was sobbing, but Jude couldn't hug her, because he was shaking to much.

"Jude!" she whispered desperately.

"It's not a mistake. Aunt Roxanne takes care of her when she's sick." He managed. Somehow, he took her in his arms, and they clung to each other.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Lucy opened her eyes and stared blearily at the ceiling. She ached all over, and there was a painful, hollow feeling in her chest. She couldn't remember why—her mind was on blank mode, and she could barely remember her name. She rolled over, caught sight of her daughter's crib.

And it all came rushing back to her, the night before. It explained everything. Why she was in pain, why Jude's arm was draped so heavily across her body, why the baby was stirring and making her sick, why she wanted to curl up and whither away into her husband.

She closed her eyes again, and let out a deep breath. She wanted to sob again, but her tears had dried up and she didn't want to wake Jude. Why hadn't she realized before? Why hadn't she known that the reason Mrs. Feeney wanted to go home was because she was sick? Or why she had suddenly gotten quieter, and quieter…?

And Jude… she knew this was also partly why she was in so much pain. It was such an automatic response, to hurt when he did, to want to scream for him. But she couldn't, because she knew he would never let her. She touched his cheek lightly with her fingertips and opened her eyes once more, to find that he was awake and watching her.

"I never said I was sorry." He whispered. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. His expression was blank and mostly neutral, which scared her the most, because he was usually so smiley and boyish…

"Sorry for what?"

"Leaving, the way I did, and not telling her about my father."

"I'm sure she knew anyways." Lucy murmured.

"Did she?" he brought his arm to his side and rolled over so that he was on his back.

"Yes. Mothers know everything."

He smiled emotionlessly. "I need to go back, Love."

"I know." She replied dully.

"Alone."

She was silent for a moment. Then, "I loved her too, you know."

"Yes," he sighed softly, and twisted his fingers into her hair. "But…"

"Yeah." She whispered. "I know. Go."

He breathed another sigh of relief and touched his lips to her cheek. They were both cold, and she didn't feel it.

"But please, please, come back." She'd closed her eyes for that last part, a new rush—the fear of refusal—making her heart beat faster.

He smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'll write."

"Everyday?"

"Every minute."

"You won't forget." It was a statement, a silent threat.

He smiled lightly, the first true smile that had graced his lips that morning. "No, I won't. Stay with Max, all right? Make sure you stay together. And if Valerie comes home before I do, then tell her what happened."

She nodded, no longer looking at him. She was afraid to, afraid to see the actual expression on his face now.

He got dressed slowly, while Lucy packed him a bag. He kissed her passionately before he left.

And just like that he was gone, jumping ship to Liverpool once again.

And she was alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

The first week, he wrote her five letters, each of which arrived within days of each other, and each of which were five pages front and back—and Jude wasn't a huge letter person. She was surprised—they'd never been apart for so long for nearly four years, and she wasn't sure she would have remembered to write so often. But at the same time, she breathed a sigh of relief—the letters continued with the second week, and the third, and the fourth…

But she felt empty. It was as though something had broken inside of her once again, because he wasn't with her.

Rose helped, a little—her unborn sibling was it's own little miracle as well. Max, looking lost and confused without Valerie, made her feel the need to pick up the pieces and keep working—for him, _and _herself. That stupid John Lennon and his Beatles, who made her want to slap them and yet laugh insanely at the same time, made her realize she could keep moving.

"Come on, Feeney, what's wrong with you?"

She shook her head. "How many times have I told you, Paul? _Do not pause in the middle of a recording session._"

"But you look so sad…" Ringo put in stupidly.

"Stop it! Just keep working, alright?"

They let it be. But they gave her nagging expressions for a long time after that.

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was a little odd, seeing his relatives again. He still thought a good lot of them were scary, but it was slightly reassuring to hear the familiar bout of accents again. The questions they asked him, though, were more than a slight pain. And then there was the fact that he was, once again, back in Liverpool, without Lucy.

He'd thought for sure the next time he would come here, if at all, would be with her. Then again, he'd thought a lot of things that had turned out wrong—the fact that this one had shouldn't surprise him.

"Jude." Someone snapped into his reverie, and it wasn't a welcome voice. "Jude, dear, yer not payin' attention."

"Does it matter?" he said irritably.

"He's a preacher, dear, of course it matters."

"Fine then." He was twenty-seven. Twenty-seven, had held a steady job for nearly four years, been married for that same amount of time, _had children, _and Aunt Mary still took it upon herself to lecture him.

The congregation trooped out of the church enthusiastically—he thought he recognized a few people from school—Phil, Molly by his side with a child trailing along. Louisa, a girl he'd briefly seen before Molly. Chris, one of the schoolboys who'd stayed on after he'd quit.

His aunt turned to look at him sharply, with a quick reprimand about staring.

_What the hell?_ "Aunt Mary, I'm nearly thirty. Would you leave me alone?" he snapped, walking ahead of her. She'd taken it upon herself to have him stay in her home, even though he would have been more than happy to live at the inn. It would have been even better to just come for the funeral and leave, but no—his relatives had to detain him, give him reproachful looks for not wanting to stay with his family longer. Of course he didn't—his _real _family was across the universe. Why would he want to stay here?

He was supposed to be grieving. He _was. _Everyday, his mother's face swam into his head, and it was all he could do not to cower in a corner and sob—why did he have to linger in her death?

He scribbled all of this furiously to Lucy, who sent him back a letter with tear blotches on it that said she missed him greatly, and a bit of comfort. Valerie wasn't home yet, and Max was taking to the bars again…

Max wrote a few letters too. Mostly impersonal, but still, the fact that it was from him at all helped a little.

And then… the phone was ringing, and there was a furious voice on the receiving end—Valerie, he managed to make out after the first few seconds of squeals.

"She's the most adorable thing, and Rose is just so _happy…_"

"What?"

"Your baby, Jude!"

"_What?_"

"Lucy just got out of the emergency room."

"Are you serious, Love?"

"Completely. Max is with her right now."

"How is she? How's the baby? I'm going to kill my aunt for keeping me here…"

"They're both fine. Don't do that to yourself, Judy."

"Tell Lucy I'll be back in heartbeat."

"Tell her yourself!" Valerie told him, and she was handing the phone to Lucy.

"Jude?" she said into the speaker, her voice bewildered. It was the first time he'd heard her in months—they'd both agreed long distance was a little expensive if it wasn't an emergency.

"Lucy!" he breathed.

"She looks like you. Actually, she looks exactly like Rose when she was a baby…"

"How are you?"

"_Exhausted._ I went into labor yesterday morning, and it's almost noon now."

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, "There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"No, nothing wrong… it just took a while. A _long _while."

"Thank God…"

"How's church?" she asked. He could almost see her grinning on the other end. Neither had stepped into a house of God for years now.

"If we ever come back together, I'd like _you _to try sitting next to my Aunt Mary."

She laughed. "That can't be good at all."

They were silent for a moment, then she said softly, "What's her name, Jude?"

"I don't know…"

"Martha?"

He shook his head, before he realized she wouldn't be able to hear him. "No, I don't want to linger on that."

"Eleanor? She's one of my nicer aunts, and it's such a pretty name—"

"I like it."

"Eleanor Martha Prudence."

He heard Prudence guffaw on the other end and say something about horrible names.

"Oh don't be stupid, Pru. You're one of my best friends." Lucy snapped.

"Eleanor Martha Prudence it is," he said with a smile.

"Rose is going to _hate _her name, and now you have to go ahead and do the same for Ellie?" Prudence grumbled.

"Jude!" Aunt Mary poked her head into the room. "Long distance is expensive, dear!" she exclaimed.

"I'd better go." Jude said softly. "I'll be back in a heartbeat, Love."

"You'd better be." Lucy told him.

"Jude!"

He glared at her and bid his wife a quick farewell.

"My goodness…"

"She just had the baby." He told her flatly. "Which means I should go soon."

"Congratulations. But the baby can wait, you have to go through a proper mourning period."

He rubbed his temple. "I loved my mother—I still do. I don't want to repeat what my father did to her with my own wife."

"I'm not asking you to do that."

He would run away. He would be out of here by tomorrow night, and back in New York in a few days…

He sighed. "No, I know you're not. I'll stay."

"You're a good boy," she said fondly. "and once the baby—"

"Eleanor."

"Once Eleanor is old enough, I see no reason why Lucy can't travel here with the children, and you simply couldn't move back."

"Many reasons, Mary, but I won't get into that. Good night."

"Good night, dearie."


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Valerie breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as Max enveloped her in his arms and held her tight. A few hours ago, she'd been at home, taking care of Anna, and then Prudence had called and was shouting for her to get her damn butt over to New York, because Lucy was popping out another one. And she was suddenly speeding on the highway in her mother's car, and she was at the hospital in two hours flat.

Max was panicking, of course, but when he saw her, and she practically ran him over, he chilled a little.

So she, Prudence, Max, and Jo-Jo sat impatiently in the waiting room, while Sadie stayed with Lucy, holding her hand when Jude should have been. And when they were all finally assembled in one of those dinky hospital maternity wards, with the baby nursing silently in Lucy's arms, she blurted "Did anyone… Oh, I dunno, bother to give him a ring over there in Liverpool?"

"Shit." Max muttered. Valerie rolled her eyes and got off of his lap to make her way to the pay phone to dial the number Prudence had written out on a slip of paper a long time ago.

"Jude?"

"That'd be me, yes."

"Oh my God!" and immediately all the emotions she'd managed to hold in rushed out in an excited squeal that might have sounded like "It's a girl!"

Then she was handing the phone to Lucy, and then… then, it was time to go. She hugged Lucy and kissed little Ellie, and she was being ushered out by Sadie, who told them all she'd stay the night with Lucy so the girl wouldn't have to be by herself in a hospital.

Max almost immediately pulled her aside and kissed her fiercely. When they broke apart, she chuckled, "I missed you too, Maxwell."

He tucked a strand of frizzy red hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "Not funny."

"Max," she whispered, "I have to go back tomorrow morning."

He shook his head. "No, you don't—"

"I do, you know I do."

He put his forehead to hers and pressed her against the wall. She was kissing him before he had the chance to get her, and he'd pulled her hair loose, and was running his hands through it.

"Where are you staying tonight, then?"

"At home?" she said tentatively. "I'll go up and see you before I leave."

"Did you eat before you came?"

Almost as if on cue, her stomach growled loudly. "Guess not."

"Let's go then." He tugged at her sweater sleeve, and they walked. He was silent, before he looked at her and said worriedly, "You don't look too great."

"Neither do you."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, muttered something she couldn't hear.

He wasn't the Max she remembered. The Max from before had been playful, attached to her by the hip and yet careful to give her space when she needed it. He knew when to be quiet, when to be sober, when to push the line and drive her crazy—

The new Max looked depressed. Her she felt a sob in her throat just looking at him—he was… damaged. Had he become that attached to her?

_Am I some sort of screwed up psycho anchor?_

"I love you Maxwell. Always will." She murmured, as they walked into the café and grabbed a table.

He smiled warily, and gripped her hand for most of the evening.

XXXXXXXX

Lucy was miserable. She was miserable because she was miserable, which made her miserable, and, goddaminit, she hate this!

She had a healthy, happy, baby girl. Her elder daughter was absolutely delighted with this new addition to the family. One of her dearest friends was taking care of her, making sure she was ok.

But… He wasn't here. He was across the ocean, in some remote part of England with an insane aunt who wanted nothing more than to keep him hostage till he consented to moving back.

_At least he's all right. At least he's happy about Ellie._

_Why wouldn't he be?_

_Exactly. Never mind. Let it be, Lucy._

Right. And now she was conversing with herself.

She sniffed loudly, and Sadie, stretched out on the cot by the hospital bed, groaned. "Go to sleep, man!"

"I can't." she sobbed, bursting into tears.

"Oh Lord… Alright, alright, chill, kiddo. It's ok…" the older woman came over to her and hugged her gently. "Shhh… you're wake Ellie up, hon."

"Sorry," she managed through her tears, "But I just…"

"He said he'd be back in a heart beat, right?"

"But…"

"No buts. No ifs, ands, or buts, unless you're sitting on it."

Lucy hiccoughed and shook her head. "Thanks, Sadie."

"No problem. Just go to sleep, ok?"

She nodded, settled her head on the pillow as Sadie returned to the cot. It took her about ten minutes to fall asleep after that.

XXXXXXX

She was dreaming. Absolutely dreaming. Wasn't that kid supposed to be in another country? And yet here he was, waking her up.

"Jude… what the Hell?" Sadie muttered, sitting up.

"Can't find my key. Can I borrow yours?"

"Where did you come from?"

"The port, just a few hours ago. I went home, but the door was locked, so then I came here. And Max is with her…"

"Yeah, yeah…" she said, bewildered. She groped for the key at the bedside table and gave it to him, before dropping off to sleep again. All a dream.

XXXXXXXX

There was a clicking noise at the door. Front door… someone was opening their door! Lucy sat up and ran into her brother's bedroom. "Max!" she shoved him awake. "Max, someone's trying to open the door—"

"What?" he listened for a minute, and his eyes widened. He sat up, ran into the kitchen, and came back with a heavy metal pan.

"Get the kids, alright? Stay in the bedroom—"

"Lucy? What are you doin' up at this hour?"

Her jaw dropped. She let out a small squeal, and crashed into the man opening the door and fell into her husband's arms, kissing him like crazy. Never mind the children, or Max, or anything…

"Oy, you know, I missed you too and all, but that's a _little _too far… Jude! Lucy! Stop it already!"

Lucy pulled away and ducked her head into his chest. He kept his arms firmly around her waist and muttered to Max, "I don't see you being discreet with Val either…"

"Come on," Lucy tugged him towards their bedroom, "You haven't met Ellie."

He nearly ran in with her, and was shocked considerably at the baby in the crib. Lucy had been right in describing her as looking just like Rose. The only difference between the two siblings were Eleanor's blue eyes as opposed to her sister's amber ones—Ellie's were unmistakably Lucy's.

"She's… pretty." He managed weakly. Already, all the feelings he'd had after Rose was born—happiness, gladness, guilt at not having been there once again, and an intoxicating sense of love—were rushing into him once again. He touched his daughter's cheek gently and looked up at Lucy in wonder. "She's real?"

"Yes, Judey."

XXX

Jude was feeling old. He had _children. _Not one, but two. He was actually settled, and he wouldn't exchange it for anything, really.

It was a little disturbing, actually.

XXX

_The war wasn't over—no, it was just beginning, and nothing—not our bright colors, not our flowers, our flags, our chants—_nothing _was working._


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Mom—Mom, stop, you're being annoying."

Jude watched as his wife bargained fiercely with her mother, trying and failing to juggle both two-year-old Rose on his knee, and feed baby Ellie. Rose slipped off landed softly on her bum, incredulous. Eleanor giggled—that set her sister off into tears, and Jude nearly began to cry himself. When would that woman hang up? Couldn't she see that he was in pain?

"We're not—No, mom. No. No. I don't know. Could you drop it? Please?"

Rose was sobbing.

"Look, I need to feed the kids—yes, he's doing his job—Mom, we've been fine for five years! Honestly, we'll manage. Yeah. Ok. Bye." She hung up, slamming the phone a little harder than necessary. "I hate it when she does that."

"Does what, luv?" he asked, gratefully handing Ellie back to her mother and picking Rose off the ground. Immediately the girl stopped crying.

"Nags."

He didn't answer. It was best not to say anything unnecessary when Lucy was in one of her moods.

"She just goes on and on about the stupidest things, like why the kids aren't wearing Christmas sweaters, or why Max hasn't called in the past three days, or why I've gained weight—"

"Weight?" he took a long look at her, and she blushed.

"Not much. I was pregnant, you know."

"I know, I just didn't think you looked all that different."

"Ten pounds, Jude."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes and gave Ellie her bottle.

"Well, Mum said you were too skinny before."

"What's that supposed to mean? That I'm too fat now?"

"No, not at all—"

"Well I'm sorry _you'll_ never know what it feels like to carry some _inside _you because of someone else—"

"Lucy, I only meant—"

"Insisting that it was Christmas and that since the baby was asleep—"

"Lucy." He raised an eyebrow. She stopped.

"Jude?" she said tentatively.

"Yes, luv."

"Am I fat?"

"No, luv."

"Good."

They were silent again, except for the sound of Ellie's slurping.

"So…" he began again, "What else did she say?"

"The usual. What are we doing in New York? Soon as the kids start school it'll be terrible for them and us, getting them there and back safely…"

"You get Rose to school and back just fine…"

"Yes, but when she starts elementary school it'll be different, because it's farther away."

He knew where this was going.

"My mother thinks it would be a fine idea to move us all to Jersey."

"And what do you think?" he asked carefully.

She shrugged, "I don't care. Wherever you want to be—I'm happy here, I'd be happy there."

"Happier?" he pressed.

"No. The same, probably. Look, Jude, I'm not even thirty. I don't wanna settle down quite yet."

"This isn't settled?"

She looked at him strangely. "Settled are my parents, Lizzy and Julia. Nice neighborhood, fancy schools, big toys. We're wild and always going places—"

"When was the last time we went out?"

"Last..." she paused and frowned a little after some thinking, "I don't remember anymore. Wow."

"Isn't that what you call 'settled'?"

She didn't answer, only kept feeding Eleanor.

"No really," he said, "I'm curious."

"Jude," she looked up finally, "It doesn't matter. Drop it."

"So you _want _to move?"

"No! I told you I don't care. I'll go where you go, ok?"

"Oh don't give me that. Of course you care."

"Fine! I do care! But I only care that my children get fed and educated and are happy. I don't care where."

Max walked in casually, and plopped down on one of the mismatched chairs.

"Where did you come from?" Lucy snapped.

"I rang the doorbell three times, then I unlocked it with the key you gave me when you got married. Remember that, Lucy? Or should I get you a picture?" he added sarcastically.

"Shut up, Max."

"Oh just kiss and make up…" he rolled his eyes and moved on to the refrigerator.

"No really, mate." Jude told him laughlessly, "Shut up."

"Why? Honestly, man, it's not that bad…"

"Max!" his sister snapped.

"She obviously wants to move—"

"I don't!"

"So _move._"

"Get out of my house!" she handed Ellie to her husband and nearly shoved her brother out the door and in to the stair landing. "Don't you ever—I would _never_—"

"Come on, Luce. You were going to say it—"

"Just because Valerie's gone doesn't mean you have to ruin my life too!"

"Do you want to move?" he asked her, "Don't try to hide stuff from me, either, because I always know."

She couldn't answer to that. Finally, she exhaled and glared at him. "Part of me wants to, for Rose and Ellie. But the other part of me would hate it, because I love this place—I love this apartment, love this street, love the studio. So I don't know. But," she continued, her glare increasing by a ten-fold, "That doesn't mean you can just make stuff up and barge into my kitchen—"

"Relax, Lu. I'm going." He trotted lightly down the stairs and out the building into his car—the convertible he'd worked three summers for because he didn't want their father to pay for anything of his anymore, the one in which he'd proudly driven her on her first day of her senior year of high school, the car where she'd met Jude. He waved a little and drove off; she slammed her fist into the railing and went back in.

XXX

She didn't exactly know what she was doing, that was certain. She hadn't driven since she'd gotten her license, a task that had taken her a painful two years. So Valerie had no idea why she'd stolen her brother-in-law's car and decidedly driven to New York the night after a blizzard. She couldn't have taken the train—it was too late at night, and anyways, you needed a pre-ordered ticket, which she didn't have. She could have hitchhiked, she supposed—Jude had told her that that was usually the easiest way to ditch a joint—but she hadn't thought of that then. She was freezing though—she'd grabbed a coat, shoved on a pair of pants, and grabbed the keys, then driven away. Any minute now, Anna would get the note, would start crying—Dave would comfort her before going to work, and then her sister would wallow in her misery for the rest of the day before going to sleep.

She'd needed to escape. Badly.

X

Three hours later, she was bursting through the door of her dark apartment. She wasn't sure if it was empty—last time, she'd told Max to move in for as long as she was gone if he needed to, but she doubted he'd actually taken her up on the offer, since he'd moved into his own place shortly afterwards.

"Holy—" there was a loud thump from within the living room, as though someone had fallen off a table.

"Jesus Christ! Who the hell are you and what—" She felt someone grab both her arms and twist them behind her.

"Max, it's just—"

"Wait—"

"Turn on the lights, you idiot!"

"_Valerie?_"

"Lights, Max. Or at least let go of me long enough to—"

"Fine, fine." The lights flickered on, and she blinked a few times. It was certainly neater than she'd remembered it. Everything had been straightened and dusted—both chores that she'd never bothered with.

There was a yank on her chin, and his lips were pressed against hers. She grinned and pulled away ruthlessly. "We're eager, aren't we? You might want to let go of my arms first though."

"Right." He let go and picked her up to kiss her again, but she stopped him. "Talk to me first? I've had a bad day."

He smiled. "You should eat something. Come on, I think Luce went grocery shopping a couple of days ago."

"Max! It's nearly three. We can't go over _now._"

"She keeps extra groceries in here."

"Oh."

He sat down at the table as she fixed herself something to eat. There was butter and toast—a meal Jude probably would have preferred, but she wasn't picky. She smiled and sat down.

"What did you do today?" she grinned and took a bite of toast.

"Want the whole thing?"

"Sure."

"Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head."

"Mm…"

"Found my way downstairs, and drank a cup, and looking up, I noticed I was late. Found my coat, and grabbed my hat, made the bus in seconds flat. Found my way upstairs and had a smoke, somebody spoke, and I went into a dream."

"Ah."

"Mmh."

They were silent. Then, "So… care to tell me what went on in Jersey?"

"I don't know… Anna…she kind of cracked. Went completely bonkers. Started yelling at me about how I was disgrace, living the way I do."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I told her I'd been living with her for the last month because she wouldn't let me go, that I'd be happy to go home. So she slapped me, and sent me to my room. I'm twenty six—don't I have the right to go to my room when I want to?"

"So you left?"

"Yes. Thank goodness I did, too. She'll probably call in the morning. But Max, I don't want to go back."

He smiled a little. "I've been waiting forever to hear you say that, did you know? It's _your _apartment. You have every right to stay."

She shivered a little and hugged him.


End file.
